


Drake

by Verdic



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Fractured Moon
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-10-03 20:03:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20458679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verdic/pseuds/Verdic
Summary: Two years have passed since Ianthe and her friends rescued Zeena from the depths of the Wasteland. They spent their previous year making up all the work they missed out on. Now, an Imperialist power from out West has made its way to their borders, and Ianthe finds herself and her friends wrapped up in plots that could topple the nations of the entire continent.





	1. Chapter 1

“Come on!” Ianthe hammered on the door. “I know no light gets in there, but sound must. We’re going to be late if you don’t get your ass in gear.” She glared at Zeena’s door, debating if she should break it down and drag the prima-donna vampire out of her room. She knew she didn’t have to wait for her friends to go to classes, now that they didn’t share too many, but she took it upon herself to make sure everyone went.

The tall fiend-like woman crossed her upper set of arms, biceps clenching. Her lower pain of hands rested on her hips, her long, lizard-like tail waving behind her in agitation. The steel of her horseshoes clacked on the stone tiles as she walked back and forth, her massive bat wings flexing as the air of her passage filled them. She leaned against the door, her horns clacking as they hit the wood. 

“Come on. Why won’t you even answer? Is everything ok?” While Zeena was normally overly energetic and peppy, she had dark moments, sometimes as bottomless as the void. 

“Because I am not in my room.” Zeena’s heavy Stromkirk accent floated up from the stairwell. Ianthe turned to see the vampire standing at the top of the stairwell, a mug with thick, red liquid in her hand. The dark red of the liquid showed in stark contrast to her alabaster skin on the edge of her ruby red mouth. A mass of dark black curls bounced on her head, unable to be contained by any force the four of them had ever known. She was wearing her traditional school outfit over her svelt, a long black dress that stretched down to the floor and her wrists and all the way up to the top of her neck, where it ended in red lacy frills the same color as the blood. The same blood red lace was visible on the skirts of her dress and over the one pure white patch over the center of her chest. “I am all ready for a new year of classes.” She tapped her white parasol on the ground, excited grin showing two long, thin fangs, more menacing than Ianthe’s mouth full of sharp teeth.

Ianthe marched up to her friend. Zeena only reached up to her chin, but even as the fiendish woman glared at her, she only smiled. Ianthe held the glare for a moment before the smile infected her as well. Shaking her head to try to hide the smile, she marched down the stairs, Zeena seeming to float after her. As they got to the first floor, there was a loud crash coming from the living room. Grumbling, Ianthe bit her tongue and walked in to see what was happening. 

Hammah and Penny were in the living room with a spasming machine between them. Hammah, being much larger and having no mechanical training, was in the form of a large gorilla and holding the thing as it writhed in his arms. Penny, her slight form already covered in grease, was working on pulling out all of the power crystals. With a final tug, she pulled the crystal and tumbled onto her backside. The machine went slack the moment the power crystal was pulled. 

The gorilla let it slump to the floor and morphed back to his human form. The black hair faded away to a slight dusting on the one arm Hammah still had left. He wore his hair long, tied loosely around the base of his neck by a beaded rawhide cord. His reddish tanned skin was slick with sweat, sticking his multi-earth toned leather vest to his torso. His thick body was shaking with the exertion, his one hand on his knee. 

“Finally!” Penny surged up from the floor and hugged her one-armed boyfriend. “I never thought Amber would re-activate themselves. I’ll make sure to make a quick release next time.” She laughed, wiping a rag over her forehead. The small elf was a full foot shorter than Ianthe, her nut-brown skin smeared with oil from her broken machine. Her dark blond hair fell to ear length and was tucked back by a small spider-like machine she had made a few weeks previous. When they first met her, Penny had been thin and gangly. But after a year of working with machines and adventuring, her arms had bulked out slightly, showing the definition of her muscles. 

“Are you two ready for classes?” Ianthe asked, trying to keep from losing her temper. “We missed a lot two years ago, and last year we had to work extra hard to get back on track. I’m not having us miss anything this year.” 

“Don’t worry.” Penny’s voice was deeper than one would have assumed. Her face was thin and sharp, but mixed with the voice gave a masculine impression. It confused most people who met her, but they often blamed it on her being a sun elf from the north. “My first class doesn’t start till an hour after yours.”

“And mine not for two more hours. Benefit to studying the night sky.” Hammah smiled, flexing his thick neck to relieve stress. “I think we should clean before class though.” Penny flushed as he made the suggestion. 

“You two are so gross.” Ianthe muttered, stalking past them to grab her bag.

“That is only because you have an unrequited crush and spend all your nights without someone.” Zeena countered her friend, finishing the contents of her mug. “I, for one, think you both are the cutest things ever.” 

“You spend all your nights alone, so don’t give me that.” Ianthe was smiling as she opened the door. When they got outside of their house in the massive spire, Zeena opened her parasol and gently laid it across her shoulder. 

“I do not care to have anyone in my bed, now or ever.” Zeena started humming. Ianthe sighed and looked back at the spire of their house. Charkassus, her dragon, was sleeping with their head hanging out of the aerie. She knew she would get no help there, so she merely bumped her hip into Zeena before taking off at a sprint. The vampire squealed in surprise and snapped her parasol shut. Hiking up her skirts in one hand, she charged after Ianthe, laughing wildly at the chase.

Ianthe slowed her headlong rush as they entered the more populated area near the university, waiting by the gate for her friend. While she waited, she decided to look around. She stood taller than most of her fellow students, many of whom were humans, halflings, and dwarves, with a small number of gnomes and elves. She had yet to encounter another whose ancestry was fiendish, like herself, or with some of the more esoteric ancestries. Many of her fellow students gave her a wide berth, made nervous by both her height and ancestry. 

It rankled with her that they all seemed to be nervous of her. She had done nothing to earn their ire. She had even saved a few the previous year when a fiend blew out part of the spire and sent people falling from nearly two kilometers in the air. Still, people associated her closely with evil. It didn’t help that she was wearing a shirt with the necromancy symbol on it and was the only student who was specializing in that school. 

She was ignoring a group of students who were staring when Zeena came bounding into the courtyard, her parasol open to block the sun coming in the massive windows that made up the walls of all the spires. They all recoiled from her, their wary looks turning angry as they recognized her dress. The Stromkirk lands were ruled by vampires. There was a fairly large group of people who wanted the other family clans of the City of Mirrors to clear out all of the vampires, claiming they were unnatural. There had been a few assassination attempts before Queen Aimee, Zeena’s aunt, had to decree that they were not going to be exiled or exterminated. 

Despite the decree, and the fact that vampire attacks were rare, people were still terrified of them. Ianthe growled as the group glared at her friend. Most of them took off, clearly unnerved by Ianthe. One of them, a young man in white leathers, glared haughtily at them for a few more moments and turned away. 

Turning back to Zeena, she shook her head. “Come on, we need to get to class.” Grabbing the vampire’s hand, she pulled them through the throngs of people to their first class of the day. Their first class, The Art of the Compromise, was in one of the older buildings near the center, as the rooms were much larger and allowed for groups to have their own debates where the professor could look on. Ianthe chose a seat at the back of the class, even though the room was almost empty. Her tail and wings swished behind her, stretching them briefly before tucking them away. The professor at the head of the room, and aging elf, glanced at them. He nodded and turned back to his book, his long white hair and mustache sweeping over the book he was reading.

Slowly, the classroom filled in. Most of the people avoided Ianthe and Zeena, taking seats closer to the front. Once students stopped filling in, the old elf looked up. “Greetings class. You may call me Professor Legornne.” Unlike his frail looking body, the voice that came out was powerful and resonating. “The start of another year. If any of you failed to hear, over the summer Drumlin declared war against its southern neighbor, Lycrest. War is a nasty business. Forget everything you were taught about the glory of battle. There is no glory. Only hardships.” 

He walked to the board at the front of the room. With a length of chalk, he started writing. “Now, as we are trade partners of both and natural in this war, we are in the delicate situation of what we can trade and with whom.”

“Why don’t we stop trading with both of them? Aren’t there plenty of other nations we can trade with?” a halfing in the second row asked, his head cocked to the side. The professor blinked, not excpecting to be interrupted. 

With a harrumph, he continued. “There are many reasons we do not stop trading with them. Can anyone tell me why we are still trading with two nations at war?”

Another halfing raised her hand. “We…we keep trading because the war drives up prices?” He offered, voice raising an octave from start to finish. The professor nodded and looked around for anyone else.  
“A lack of trade will hurt us just as much as stopping trade will hurt them. In border communities, trade with other nations is important and vital to the community’s survival.” Zeena called from the back of the room, her arm raised in the air. The professor nodded once again, not agreeing, but declaring that she had made a point. 

“And wouldn’t we want to back one of the countries? Who has the moral high ground?” A dwarven boy on the far side of the room asked. “If one side is clearly in the wrong, but it isn’t our fight, why wouldn’t we want to help the war by ending trade in one nation and helping the other?”

“All very good ideas.” Professor Legornne smiled. “And that will be our first topic. The war in the west and our trading policies.” He pointed to a stack of scroll cases. “In there are scenarios you will, as groups, go through the scenario you have been given and come up with a trade decision. Everyone, gather in groups of three. Those who answered need to be in separate groups.” There was a mass shuffling of bodies as people moved to quickly make groups. Ianthe groaned as she stood. It was going to be a long class.

The next class they had was a triple block length of sciences. Ianthe and Zeena slogged through the class as it dragged on through the middle of the day. The sun was starting to set when they walked out of the class. Professor Ebtol had started immediately with climate and cycles of weather, claiming they would be focusing more on that for the first part of the year. The middle aged halfling woman had them focus on the climate of the immediate area and comparing it to the land west. 

“Why has everything been taken over by the war out west?” Ianthe grumbled. 

“I sometimes forget you are not nobility or in a political family. Does your father not tell you about business?” Zeena asked, parasol spinning gently in her gloved hands. 

“What’s that supposed to mean? It’s just two of the smaller nations out west fighting over another dispute. Probably an old grudge.” Ianthe splaced her lower hands in her front pockets as her upper arms folded across her chest. 

Zeena shook her head, her curls bouncing all over. “It is more than that. Drumlin has been at war for the past ten years. They have taken over two other nations. If they conquer Lycrest, they will have a shared border with Karak and us.”

Ianthe grunted as she thought. Her father had a weapon’s business, but would he supply that to other nations? He was very loyal to Karak, but business was different. She chewed her lip as she thought, walking in pace with Zeena. She hadn’t heard about him making shipments to any other nations, but she hadn’t been interested in his business practices. And that didn’t mean other people weren’t selling his arms elsewhere.

These thoughts still held her concentration as they made their way through their weapons class. While normally only for nobility, those with wealthy enough parents could get their children weapons tutelage as part of their curriculum. Anyone else who wanted to learn weapons had to find a weapons trainer on their own or sign up for the army or militia. 

Ianthe felt odd practicing with her weapons. The forms she was being taught, the rules of fencing and dueling, seemed at odds with the adventure they had this previous year. She glanced over at Zeena to see her friend was having no problem with her fencing. Ianthe smiled as she remembered the frenzy with which Zeena normally fought. Seeing her delicately parry and riposte with her rapier was now a humorous sight. 

Turning back to her opponent, Ianthe tried to go through the movements they learned last year. She gritted her teeth as she clumsily went through the forms, the blunt practice blade of her opponent hitting her arms as often as her blade. 

“I see you fretted your small vacation away. Did you even lift your blades?” Bowlin Crop, the stern, willowy dwarven fencing master, scoffed. “It’s almost as if you never held a sword. I bet you just ran home. No one who fights like this could have survived the adventures you claim to have gone on.”

“Because,” Ianthe grunted as she blocked a blow and grabbed her opponent with her free hands, keeping him from being able to swing either of his arms. “When I was fighting, I was wielding two blades and wasn’t dueling.” She turned to the instructor. “Had I tried dueling, say, twenty opponents at once, I would have been killed. When will we learn to actually fight?”

Bowlin raised an eyebrow. “This isn’t fighting enough for you? Not good enough?” Ianthe felt her anger rise at his condescending tone. She was about to bite back with a retort when she felt Zeena’s hand on her tail, giving her a gentle tug. 

Instead of something she would regret, she replied, “I don’t think it will be helpful to me. I’m not going to be fighting one on one duels.”

“Well, does anyone else feel this way?” Bowlin asked, facing the rest of the class. A few hands went up, but most of the students were cowed enough keep their hands down. “Well, if that is the case.” He walked to the middle of the room and brought a practice saber into a formal salute. “If all of you attack me at once, you will score a hit on me. If you can land three such hits on me before I land three on all of you, I will concede. If you fail, you stay and extra hour every day.” He pointed his blade at Ianthe. When no one moved, he shouted. “Everyone, attack. I gave you an order.” Startled out of their stunned state, the students hesitantly moved forwards. After nearly twenty seconds with only a few feet of ground gained, Bowlin rolled his eyes and launched himself forwards. 

His saber was a blur of movement, the top portion of the blunted practice blade rapping against the student’s wrists and one tap against the throat. The student, a bland human male with a rapier, dropped his weapon and fell before he could even raise his blade to block it. Barely slowing down, Bowlin twirled around the student, his blade skipping off the inner thighs of two more students. With a return slash, he hit their other thighs. A pair of thrusts put them on the ground, holding bruised breastbones. 

He twirled back to face the rest of the students. After another pause, he launched himself forwards. The students had recovered from their shock by this time and surged forwards. The first two students to reach him did so one at a time. It was clear that while the students knew their positions and forms, Bowlin was a master and slipped past each of their guards. 

Ianthe finally reached Bowlin, stooping to pick up a second blade. Hooves clattering on the ground, she moved behind him as Zeena moved to engage him from the front. Rather than waiting for him to attack one of them, Zeena and Ianthe rushed in, bringing their blades to bear. 

Bowlin flicked his blade upwards from his knee, stepping outwards. Zeena’s blade rose as it was deflected. As he spun, Bowlin ducked and raised his blade into a guard, deflecting Ianthe’s slash. The saber skittered off his rapier and into Zeena’s arm. The vampire screeched in surprise and glared at Ianthe. Using her other sword, Ianthe thrust under her saber arm, the rapier rocketing towards Bowlin.  
Shifting his stance, he knocked Ianthe’s thrust aside and punched her in the gut with the basket hilt. Ianthe doubled over as the air was knocked from her. With a quick flick, he brings the blade crashing into her chest. Ianthe brought both of her blades close to block what she thought would be his final swing. 

Zeena’s blade hummed as it carved through the air. Bowlin rolled backwards, moving out of range of both women as he spun to engage two other students. As Ianthe recovered, she saw that of all the students who were attempting to take down the teacher, she and Zeena were the only two left. 

“Well, I see that the twelve of you were able to land two blows on me to my…thirty-three blows.” He rested his blade on his shoulder, seemingly as calm as when the fight started. “Do you still think there is nothing to my teaching?”

Ianthe was ready to jump. He had only one more hit left and she would be proven right. But as she looked at his calm manner and the amount of her classmates he had beaten, the realization that his point had already been made. Anger bubbled up in her at being blocked into a course with no escape. There was no escape for her. If she won, it was because others helped her. If she lost, she would feel humiliated. Either way, he had still won and she had lost. 

Growling in frustration, Ianthe leapt forwards. Bowlin smiled, unmoving, as Ianthe started to move. Before she had made three steps, she felt a strong tug on her tail and her hooves slipped. Wings spread to try and catch her, Ianthe slammed face first into the ground, her nose crunching slightly as an explosion of stars blinded her. 

“Know when you are out matched.” Zeena hissed, refusing to drop her friend’s tail. She looked at the teacher. “I think you have made your point. My beloved friend here will just need some time to come to terms with it.”

“Well, she better do that on her time. For now, you are still in class. Everyone, pair up and keep working.” Bowlin walked off and started getting the students working again. 

Ianthe glared up at Zeena. Zeena looked back with all the haughtiness she could muster. “Do not argue. You know you were in the wrong.” Ianthe lowered her eyes, pouting. “Now come, we still have time for more practice.” 

When they got home that evening, Ianthe flew up to her room and refused to come out. Zeena informed their other roommates that she had a bad day and was embarrassed by a teacher. Penny went to go knock on her door, but Zeena stopped her with a gentle hand. Sighing, they started to talk about their day, their joy at being back dampened by Ianthe’s refusal to come down and join them. 

Up in her room, Ianthe prowled and growled, vitriol leaking in every word she spoke. She was cursing both her politics and fencing teacher. When she got upset that she couldn’t be in Zeena’s group, Professor Ebtol had assigned her to two of the dullest eyed nobles she had ever seen. Not only did she have to work with thick headed nobles, she now had to spend an extra hour after each class practicing fencing. She wasn’t against weapon practice, but she hated the style of fencing they were teaching. And each of these situations had been brought about by her anger. 

Rather than work on controlling it, she gathered her anger at the tips of her fingers and sent a blast of electricity at the stone wall, sending chips and shards of stone flying. One of the slivers hit her face, drawing a line of blood. Screaming in rage, she fell onto her bed, a steady stream of curses still issuing from her mouth. Charkassus crawled down from their perch, cooing slightly at Ianthe. She looked up at the young dragon, the image distorted by tears. “Damn it!” She muttered. “Why wouldn’t I just keep my mouth shut?” Charkassus chirped and whistled. “I know. I don’t want to make things harder, but I can’t help feeling protective of all of them.” The dragon continued to whistle and chirp. Ianthe sighed. “You’re right. I should go downstairs.” Rolling off her bed, Ianthe dragged herself down the stairs to the main room where everyone else was still eating quietly. 

They all looked up as Ianthe clopped down the stairs. “Ianthe, I am so happy you decided to join us for dinner.” Zeena smiled up at her friend. Ianthe smiled back half-heartedly. “You need to sit and eat good food.”

“Is that an order?” Ianthe half-heartedly growled, taking her seat and started scooping some of the rice and vegetables into a bowl. 

“Not yet. Do not make me mother you.” Zeena smiled. 

“How are you feeling?” Penny ventured, wanting to break the awkward tensions. Ianthe sighed heavily as she scooped some of the sauce onto her meal. 

“Shitty, but mostly because I made stupid choices today.” She shrugged. “I’ve now got an extra hour of weapons practice, mandatory, every day I have the class.” She took a bite and sighed happily, eyes closing in pleasure at the flavors. 

“Well, glad to know I can still cook well.” Hammah chuckled, taking a sip of watered juice. Ianthe smiled at her friends, glad to have them in her life. 

Next day’s magic class brought all of Ianthe’s worry back. Their first class, Theory of Magic, was fairly simple, starting them on the basis of magic formula and how to write their own formula. Zeena and Penny both had their heads bent, taking notes about the different types of formula. Ianthe was too distracted to take comprehensive notes. Her upper hands were wringing each other while her lower ones were picking at the hem of her shirt and pants. 

“Why are you so nervous? I thought you loved this class.” Zeena asked as they packed up their bags to move from general magic theory to their specific classes. Zeena, while not being particularly good at casting spells, was most interested in illusions and enchantments and how to counter them. Penny was still in her engineer and transmutation classes. Penny had nearly reached the end of simple machines and was ready to move onto larger and more complex machines. Although she wouldn’t admit it, she was still trying to find a way to replace Hammah’s arm in a way he would accept. 

Ianthe had been nervous when signing up again. She wanted to focus more on abjurative or evocative magic, but her gaze kept landing on Necromancy and he remembered Ree, her teacher. In a moment of panic, she had singed up to join the Necromancy class again. 

“Is there something wrong with the teacher? Why did you sign up again?” Penny asked as they headed to their specific rooms.

“Because, I’m more worried about what would happen if I didn’t go to that class.” Ianthe muttered. 

“Come on, the professor isn’t going to hurt you if you don’t go to her class. She would understand.” Ianthe placed a hand on each of Penny’s shoulders. She grabbed her hands with her other two.  
“Oh dear, sweet, innocent Penny.” She shook her head in mock sadness.

“Don’t do that!” Penny interrupted. “I’m less innocent than you are. If you don’t remember, I was there with you to rescue Zeena, and tell me, who’s getting laid regularly? You’re probably the most innocent of all of us. Your grandmother would be so upset with you.” Penny laughed as Ianthe glared at her. “Now go on, go to a class you’re terrified of. We will be having fun.” She stuck out her tongue and slipped from the fiendish woman’s grasp. She hooked Zeena’s arm and the tow of them sauntered off to their classes. 

Ianthe stalked off to her class, muttering about her friends and commenting on their odd proclivities. She slammed the door to the classroom behind her, figuring Ree would be a few minutes late and she would have a chance to vent and get herself under control. As the door slammed, she heard a small chorus of gasps from the other side of the room. Turning to face the unexpected noises, she noticed a group of three other students at the far end of the room. 

They were all first-year students. Two of them were human, both with lank, black hair, pale, freckled skin, and black eyes. It took a moment for Ianthe to realize they were twins. The one on the left was in form fitting black pants and long-sleeved tunic, leaving only their face and hands uncovered. The one sitting on the right was wearing a set of looser pants and tunic, their body form mostly hidden. The third figure was a small Satyr boy. The Satyr’s fur was as black as the human’s hair, with a similarly themed black robe.

They had all been gathered around, like friends, rather than sitting at different ends of the room like strangers. They were all now staring silently at Ianthe. The Satyr took a hesitant step forwards. “Are you Professor Ree?” The question held a small tinge of awe in it. Ianthe realized that all three of them were staring at her with something close to awe. She sighed, realizing they probably hadn’t seen many fiendlings, especially not one as fiendish as her. 

“No, I’m not.” She replied curtly. She saw the three students deflate slightly.

“Now, that wasn’t nice.” Ree’s bone-chilling voice emanated from a spot right behind Ianthe. Her tail flicked in fear, hitting against fabric and a leg. Ianthe didn’t even dare to turn around. “They were so excited when they thought you would teach them some of the darker magics.” Ianthe wasn’t sure, but she thought there was a teasing quality to her teacher’s voice.

Ianthe’s eyes were glued on the other students, and the fear they were experiencing. The twins were holding each other’s hands, eyes wide. The Satyr bleated involuntarily. She could remember the fear she felt the first time she met Professor Ree. Turning slowly, she saw her professor was still wearing her tattered, flowing robes, making her appear like a floating wraith. “Hello Professor.” Ianthe gulped, a supernatural fear threatening to send her running. 

“It’s wonderful to see you again. I’m glad you weren’t frightened away. I must admit, I thought you had left the mage school because of me. It was both a pleasure, and a slight ego deflation, to see you had signed up for my class again.” She stopped, floating near the front of the class. Ianthe could imagine the elf underneath, hips cocked contrapposto with a wry smile, eyes full of mischief. Ianthe bit her cheek, trying to keep the image from the club her first year from entering her mind. 

“I promised I’d be back.” Ianthe could feel the fear giving way, but this time, her cheeks were turning red. She could feel the image entering her mind and superimposing itself over the wraith before her. She bit harder, trying to keep from becoming too aroused and noticeable.

Ree turned back to the other students. “Welcome to Necromancy. I am your professor, Ree. This here is Ianthe, she was in my class the last two years, so she can help you if you need.” Ianthe was sure she could see a wicked smile on Ree’s face through the darkness. “Please introduce yourselves and why you are here in this class.” 

The twins spoke first. “I’m Kelan Arbor.” The one on the left said. “And I’m Nyalla Arbor.” The one on the right finished. Kelan’s voice was slightly deeper with a twang, while Nyalla seemed to have a slight lilt. “We…we’re studying Necromancy because we seem to have a talent for it.” They seemed to fumble over their words, each one only getting a few words out before the other took over. Ianthe couldn’t tell if they were lying or if they were just odd. 

“I’m Quelina Pelforth, but you can call me Quel. My family wants me to study magic, and I…I’ve always had a fascination with the dead.” He clacked her hoof against the tile floor, mumbling into his shirt.  
“Well, that’s better than Ianthe’s reasoning.” Ree chuckled. “But I will be keeping my eyes on you. Necromancy is one of the feared arts for a reason. Bringing the dead back to life is one thing, but the reanimation of the body is a completely to most cultures. Additionally,” Ree started to float around the room. “Using necromantic energy is dangerous. One mis-use can obliterate someone’s very soul.” She appeared right behind the Arbor twins. “That is not a weight you want on your soul.” 

She disappeared and reappeared at the front of the classroom. “We will not be working with attack spells for at least one year, or as long as it takes for you to show the proper respect to the school.” She summoned a spectral hand and started writing on the board as she talked to the students. Ianthe quickly sat down and started scrawling notes. She noticed that the other students seemed to already have a basic understanding on necromancy, which was more than she had going into the class. 

Two hours later and Professor Ree called the class to a close. The Arbor twins quickly packed up and hurried from the classroom. Quel took a little longer, lingering for a moment, looking for all the world like he wanted to ask something, before hurrying from the room. His cloven hooves clattered against the floor as he retreated from the room. As Ianthe headed for the door, Ree stepped in her way.  
The door closed and locked as she turned to face Ianthe. Pulling the hood down, Ianthe was once again looking at the elf from the club. “I’m glad to see you came back, honestly, but I think we have to confront the problem between us.” Ianthe’s metal shod hoof tapped the floor. “You did something stupid at the club, and we met out of school. We both have lives outside of the classroom. All I ask is that you only think of me as your teacher, no matter where we are, and act accordingly.” Her lips quirked into a smile. “And maybe do a little better at hiding that.” She gave a quick look down to emphasize her point, her smile growing. 

Ianthe quickly wrapped her wings around her body, suddenly self-conscious about the tightness of her pants. “Of…Of course. We are just student and teacher.” Ianthe nodded nervously. “I’m sorry.” She sighed. She turned and left the room, Ree pulling her hood back up before the door opened. 

As Ianthe left the room, she noticed her friends near the entrance, waiting for her. Close by, unaware they were waiting for the same person, were her fellow classmates. Ianthe examined the low doorway. She wouldn’t be able to escape without being within reach of Zeena. Slouching, she marched over to her friends, wings still wrapped around her. 

“Ianthe, what kept you so long?” Zeena asked, bounding over. “Why are you wrapped like that?” Zeena pulled back Ianthe’s wings and slipped an arm in hers. “Come on, we are so hungry for dinner.” Zeena started to hustle Ianthe towards their home. As they approached the trio, Quel waved at Ianthe. “Do you know him?” Zeena asked, leaning in.

“Yeah, he’s in my class. All three of them are.’ Ianthe muttered. She half-heartedly waved back.

“Ianthe?” Quel asked, his voice cracking a little. “Do…do you have a moment?” The fiendling closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying not to be short with her new classmates. “We wanted to ask you a few questions.” 

“Of course she has time for new friends.” Zeena beamed. The three of them gasped as they saw her fangs. All three of them shrank back slightly. “Come and join us for dinner and you can ask her all the questions you want.”

“I retain the right to refuse to answer any of them though.” Ianthe grumbled as the three nodded and followed them back to their home.


	2. Chapter 2

Ianthe stalked off to the kitchen when they got home. She figured if she was cooking, they couldn’t ask her to be social with her classmates. She immediately started grabbing random vegetables and started peeling them, shards of skins flying everywhere. She wanted to be upset with Zeena for inviting them over. She barely knew these people. She put down the blades and braced all four of her arms on the counter. Her grimace of anger gave way to laughter, full bodied and self-deprecating. Slowly the volume rose till there was a knock on the door and Zeena poked her head in.

“Is everything ok? Do I have to call a doctor for you?” Zeena asked. Ianthe snorted as she tried to control her laughter. More heads poked around the door, wanting to see what caused the fiendling to laugh so uncontrollably. 

“Just laughing at my own stupidity.” Ianthe took deep, bellowing breaths to try and regain control. She waved off her friends and continued preparing dinner, chuckling occasionally at herself. Wasn’t she the person, within ten minutes of meeting Penny invited her into living with them? And now she was worried about having more people over? She shook her head as she tossed the chopped vegetables into a pan with oil and started roasting them over the kitchen hearth. 

Turning around to grab some of the meat from the icebox, she nearly ran into Nyalla. The slight human was fiddling with a charm in their hands, eyes glued to Ianthe. “Hellion’s claws! What are you doing there?” Ianthe asked, catching herself from running into the human at the last moment. 

Nyalla fidgeted more, holding tightly to the amulet. Ianthe could see it depicted a bone with a double wrap of parchment worked in the warm colors of bronze. Ianthe could tell easily it was a memento of the Gardener, the watcher of the dead. The only people who wore that symbol were people who had lost someone close to them. “I just wanted to talk to you.” The lilting voice was barely audible. 

“Well don’t sneak up on me like that.” Ianthe moved past the human to get something from the icebox. Pulling out a hunk of meat, she started carving it into thin strips, dropping it sizzling into a second pan. “So, what did you want to ask?”

“Well, we’ve…seen fiendlings before.” Nyalla mumbled the rest.

Ianthe rolled her eyes, knowing what was coming. “And you’ve never seen one like me? You want to know how different I am from others?” She turned, lower hands braced on her hips while her upper hands continued to shave the meat. Nyalla nodded nervously. Ianthe didn’t turn away and continued shaving the meat till it was all in the pan. 

Only once everything was mixed and simmering did she walk over to the smaller human. “If that’s the only reason you are here, get out. I’m not just a novelty attraction.” She glared down at Nyalla. Ianthe had the urge to use one of her fear spells, but refrained at the last moment. 

Nyalla stood there, eyes roaming freely over Ianthe. Finally, they spoke up. “We did want to know what made you so different, but we wanted to know why you wanted to study with Ree.” Nyalla took a step closer.

Ianthe was nearly looking vertically down at the human. Her upper arms crossed over her chest as she examined her classmate. There was something in their eyes, a near desperation that caused Ianthe to soften a little. With a sigh, she leaned against the island in the kitchen. “I was subject to a lot of temporal and raw magic while in the womb, that’s why I’m different. As to why I study with her…I chose it on a whim two years ago, and it saved out lives a few times, so I’m staying with her. What about you? Is it about the person you lost?”

Nyalla fiddled with the amulet. “Our mother died giving birth to us. We’ve come to terms with that…but we have always been drawn to areas with high levels of necromantic energy. Maybe the class will help us understand why.” Nyalla licked their dried, cracked lips nervously. “I take it from your earlier reaction that any questions about your looks will be harshly punished?”

Ianthe loomed over the smaller human. Her lower hands grabbed Nyalla’s arms and her upper hands rested on the girl’s shoulders. She was surprised to discover bra straps under the sweater Nyalla was wearing, but shrugged that information off. “Get to know me better, and I might let you ask.” She tried to keep from sounding angry, but could tell she had frightened Nyalla. “Now, go and join the others while I cook.” She let go of the girl and patted her on the shoulders.

By the time Ianthe came out with the food, everyone was nose deep in their homework. Hammah was currently working on his plant lore with Quel, both of them consulting the same book. Zeena currently had her head on Kelan’s lap as Penny helped them with their math work. Kelan looked terrified with Zeena smiling up at him from his lap. Nyalla was sitting by herself, her Necromancy work open in front of an empty seat. She was biting her lower lip and leaning in, trying to not make it look like she was hoping for Ianthe to sit next to her.

“Dinner’s ready!” Ianthe called. She placed the pans in the middle of the wooden table, rattling the table and the books on it. She placed down forks and bowls, filling hers up from the bowl and going to sit on the open stool near Nyalla. Without looking at her classmate, she began eating and working on the problem they had been given. Soon, the room was full of quiet murmuring and chewing, with the occasional slurp from Zeena. 

“We better be going.” Kelan said after a few hours. “We need to get ready for tomorrow. Thank you for having us over.” Zeena waved and closed the door behind them.

“Well, you seemed to make yourself at home with them fairly quickly.” Ianthe mentioned, looking pointedly at Zeena. 

“Of course. I wanted them to feel that they were at home here.” Zeena flicked her hair and strutted back to her chair. “At least I did not have someone fawning over me.” 

“No, Hammah had the fawn’s attention.” Penny leaned over and kissed Hammah. Ianthe broke they eye contact she had been maintaining with Zeena as she was overtaken by laughter. Her laughter rang out, slowly petering away as the breath left her lungs. Wracked with shaking laughter, she was unable to take a breath in. Soon, tears began welling in her eyes and she fell from her stool, curling into a semi-fetal position from laughter.

“Penny, you killed Ianthe with your joke! I am so happy with your progress!” Zeena cheered as she went over to Ianthe. "Breath Ianthe. Do you want me to have to tickle you?” Ianthe was still on the ground, fighting for breath against the fit of giggles. Without hesitation, Zeena pounced, her hands flying to Ianthe’s armpits, knocking aside her feeble attempts to stop the vampire. The tickling sent her over the edge. With a huge bellows gasp, air was sucked into the void of Ianthe’s lungs. 

Her laughter returned, but she was able to take breaths this time. More in control of her body, she wrestled with the vampire while Penny and Hammah looked on. It was hard to imagine that these two were the fierce warriors they had fought alongside only a few months ago. After a few minutes of wrestling, Zeena was sitting astride Ianthe’s back, three of her arms pinned behind her as the vampire continued to tickle her. Ianthe was squirming, her tail and wings beating helplessly as she laughed and begged Zeena to stop. 

Feeling left out, Penny dove into the scrum, adding her fingers to Ianthe’s side, turning the tables on the vampire. Zeena gave a shriek of surprise and let go of Ianthe, turning to face her new opponent. Taking advantage of the distraction, Ianthe bucked her hips and rolled, tossing Zeena and Penny to the floor. She rounded on them, arms and wings spread menacingly as she contemplated which one to tickle first. Penny and Zeena exchanged a glance. With a grin, they broke apart and charged Ianthe from both sides. 

Hammah sat, working on homework while keeping an eye on the match. He was hoping to not have to heal anyone, but he wasn’t foolish enough to join the scrum or try to break them up. He looked up a few times when he heard what he thought were pained groans or screams, but each time it turned out to be someone changing alliances and ganging up on one of the others. 

When they finally finished, completely exhausted and laughing, Hammah went over to make sure they were all ok. Other than a few small bruises, they were in the best of spirits. “What brought that on?” He asked, helping haul Penny to her feet. 

“First off, Penny normally doesn’t make many jokes. Secondly, I have been having a bad first days in my classes, so a laugh was really what I needed.” Ianthe started righting the furniture they had knocked around. “It’s not an uncommon thing for us to grapple like that, but we’ve never done it in anger.”

“We are civilized, or at least try to act civilized in some of our cases. We talk out our disputes.” Zeena started cleaning up some of the cutlery. 

“So, you fight when happy and talk when angry?” Hammah asked, getting up to help the clean-up.

“Exactly. I am a civilized lady of the landed nobility. I would not act any other way.” They all shared as chuckle as the clean up continued. 

The first month passed quickly. Ianthe quickly got used to the routine. Her extra weapons classes were leaving her exhausted, but she refused to let her other classwork slip. In their politics and diplomacy class, they had still been working on the ethics of trading with two nations at war. Although they were working on only hypotheticals, it was clear to everyone that this was being done because of the war out west. The scenarios were getting ever more morally gray and the consequences for their actions were becoming grander with every exercise. 

Zeena was currently working with five others on if they should continue to export grain to nations at war if they had a large surplus. Zeena was getting frustrated. Two of her party members were holding out on not trading, while a third was claiming they should increase the price the grain. Zeena and her two companions were trying to convince them to continue trading, as the immense surplus would hurt the local economy and they couldn’t purchase all of the surplus. 

Ianthe was having a similarly difficult time. Her group was in charge of a small nation whose only export was mineral wealth. Both of the close nations were at war, and the metals from the mines were used to purchase food. While there were other trading partners, the easiest, and most ready source, of sustenance for their people were the warring nations. 

As the class was coming to a close, and most of the groups were finished with the assignment, the professor spoke up. “I seem to have forgotten something with your current work.” There was a general groan from the class. The professor had a bad habit of adding something he had ‘forgotten’ to their current lesson. He held up a packet of papers. “You have all received these letters from the nations in question. Simply put, they are providing…incentives to not stop trading with them.” He chuckled as he handed the packets out. “This will be due at the end of the week.” 

Ianthe took her sheets as the packet came around. She groaned and looked over at Zeena, who dropped her head to the table with a short, yelp of frustration. Standing up, she went over to her elegant friend and placed a pair of hands on her shoulders. “Come on, it can’t be that bad.” She helped Zeena up so they could head to weapon’s practice. 

“It is! We cannot even come to an agreement on anything. And now, now we have to deal with a populace who wants to back one side, while the other has reminded us of old, fully legal alliances. I may just have to kill everyone else to win.” Zeena bemoaned. 

“Come on, it’s not like your minerals are being threatened with invasion if you don’t keep providing mineral supplies to two heinous villains, each of which provide the food your people need to live.”   
When they got to weapon’s class, Bowlin was standing there as normal, practice blade held upright behind his back. As Ianthe went over to grab the curved practice scimitars, she heard him call out. “Not those ones Ianthe.” She turned back to him. She had been using scimitars for years, having become used to their curved nature to help draw the cut. “Use these.” He pointed his chin to a smaller rack of weapons near him. The blades there were all straight. Letting out a quiet huff, she walked over and examined the blades. They were single edged and straight, slightly longer than the scimitars. Basket hilts guarded the hand holds. 

“Why do you want me to use these?” She asked, feeling the heavier blades. She liked the heft, more than the light weapons she had been using before. 

“You started using the scimitars when you were smaller and weaker?” He asked. Ianthe realized it was a question and nodded. “I thought so. You have grown and gotten stronger since then. The scimitars you have are your childhood weapons. You need weapons that are sized for you now.”

“Then why not keep me on the curved blades I’m used to? Ianthe asked, test swinging two of the blades. 

“I have a feeling that the straight blades will work better with your style.” Bowlin offered. Ianthe figured she might as well go along with it for a class or two. “Today, you will be working with the second years on their warm-ups for the normal duration of the class.” He turned to the rest of the third-year students. “After class, I want everyone to stay for a few minutes.”

Sighing, Ianthe walked over to the second years and started going through the warmups with them. Despite the longer blade and slightly increased weight, Ianthe could feel the weapons were more suited to her size and strength. By the time they were warmed up, she was thankful for the larger weapons, but was still unsure as to why she shouldn’t stay with curved blades. She spent the rest of practice following the individual practice the second years were going through, making sure she could still go through the forms with the new weapons.

Sweating heavily, she was happy to hear Bowlin call the class for the day. Grabbing a drink from her canteen, she walked over to where the students were gathering to listen to their teacher. “I know you’ve all been hearing tales about the war out West. Normally, we would only deal with one on one fighting here. However, with this topic on people’s minds, we are going to be doing group fighting soon. As you are receiving University training, you may be called, later in life, to lead units of infantry. You should probably get some instruction on how to lead units. There’s only a small chance you will need to use this, but those nobles among you will know that this can be useful, even against bandits and marauding monsters.” He nodded. After a few moment’s realizing they were dismissed, the students started filing out. 

Ianthe waited, still owing after class work for Bowlin. “Stand straight. I want to show you a reason why I have given you a longer blade.” He handed Ianthe a scimitar that was sized for her and one of her old scimitars. “Hold them out straight.” Ianthe’s eyes widened as she saw how much longer the saber was compared to the other two blades. “You will also be able to thrust easier with these blades.” He took the scimitars and put them aside. “Now, are you ready for your lessons?” 

An hour later, Ianthe was sorer than she ever thought she could be. She could barely raise any of her four arms. Bowlin made sure to have her practice with both pairs of arms. Putting the practice blades away, she stumbled back to the house she shared with her friends. 

Her stomach was growling by the time she shoved the door open, but food was the last thing on her mind. All she wanted was a long bath and to sleep for a year. She barely registered the fact that they had people over. Distractedly, she waved to her housemates and the guests and trudged to the bathroom. She was trying to struggle out of her sweat soaked clothing when she heard a knock on the door. Frustrated, she gave up and walked to the door. “What?” She growled the elongated question out.

“Just so you know, your mother is downstairs, along with Quel and the Arbor twins.” Zeena’s cheery voice rang through the door. 

“Fine. I’ll be down when I’m done.” Ianthe shuffled back to the bathtub, resuming her quest to strip the smelling garments and soak her flesh in the nearly scalding water.

“Just be quick. Your mother has something to tell you.” Ianthe could hear Zeena heading away, back to the first floor. Ianthe hissed gently as she sunk into the water, her sore muscles relaxing in the heat. Grabbing some of the soap flakes, she mixed them into the water, letting the grit soak from her skin. Closing her eyes, she slid down till her head was barely above the water. 

Ianthe started awake as she heard hammering on the bathroom door. The water was still hot, meaning she couldn’t have been in the water for too long. Her body protested vehemently as she sat up. Her fury was going to be swift on the one who called her from the joys of a warm bath. Wrapping a towel around herself, she stomped to the door and ripped it open. “I said I’d be down when I was done. I’m going to…” She stopped yelling as she saw her mother’s blond hair and deep blue eyes glaring back at her. “Mom!” 

“You’re going to what?” Lillia shot back, mostly unconcerned at her daughter’s tirade. 

“I…I…I’ll be right down…let me just dry off…and could you grab something for me to put on?” Ianthe looked at the ground, digging a hoof into the tile. 

“Good.” Lillia smiled slightly. “I’ll grab you something. You can take a bath later, this is important.” Ianthe quickly closed the door and dried off. When Lillia knocked next, she handed in a long dress, as well as some undergarments. “Get dressed and get downstairs.” 

Ianthe looked at the dress. It was a long sundress, one of the few she owned. It would be ok if it was just her mother and close friends, but Zeena had said her classmates were there as well. Rolling her eyes, she cinched up the dress around her arms and wings. Coming out of the bathroom, hair still a tangled mess, she slumped down the stairs. 

“Good, it seems that I do have a daughter.” Lillia smirked as Ianthe looked for a place to sit. She dropped heavily onto the padded stool.

“Mom, it’s not that I don’t love you, but what are you doing here? Couldn’t you have just called?” Ianthe found a plate being shoved into her hands by Nyalla. There was a sandwich made out of thin bread slices, cooked fowl, and grilled vegetables. Her stomach made a long growl, filling the long silence. 

“I wanted to visit you.” Lillia replied, biting into her own sandwich. “Is that not enough?”

“Normally you call ahead twenty times when you come to just visit.” Ianthe pointed out, too nervous to take a bite of her own food. 

“Good point. I wanted to see you.” She looked at the three additions to the group. “But someone tried to assassinate me two days ago.” There were gasps around the room. Ianthe blushes as she realized she had forgot to tell most of them that her mother wasn’t particularly liked out East. “It wasn’t anything new, at least the assassin wasn’t, but this was.” She handed Ianthe a small scroll. 

Gingerly, she took the scroll and looked at it. It was a short, but succinct note. “Kill Lillia Wynris. Failing that, remove her family.” 

“Does this mean the Emperor has put a hit out on the entire family?” Ianthe felt a chill that had nothing to do with her still damp skin and hair. 

“Yes.” The finality of Lillia’s words settled on Ianthe’s mind like a falling building. Her heart beat faster, wings and tails fluttering in panic. “Don’t worry. I’m going to make sure your brothers and father are safe. Norris said he could watch over himself, but you know how I worry about him. But you…you are too far away, and asking you to move in nearer to Shiba or even Aimee will make your life hard.” She turned to Zeena. “I spoke to your aunt. She’s worried about all of you, living with Ianthe and with this new threat. She told me that the University is going to be sending some students along with the diplomatic corps to the conflict out West.”

Ianthe heaved a sigh. “Did you really get me sent to a warzone to try and keep me safe from assassins?” There was a long, pregnant pause as Lillia chewed on her food. “How is that safer than an assassin threat here?”

“First, because they will not know where you have gone. Secondly, you won’t be in a war zone. You will be in the capitals. There will be guards everywhere, making it safer than here. And this way, you are still getting your studies in. You know I’d rather have you at home till this blew over.” 

“Blew over? Has this happened before?” Hammah asked, brows knitted it worry.

“Oh yes. Ianthe was about six the last time it happened. I had to rid the Emperor of nearly a dozen assassins before he stopped trying to kill me.” Lillia shrugged. “I’m still amazed he’s held a grudge this long. You’d figure he’d come around for one of his champions.” She leaned back, one hand resting nonchalantly on the stylized rapier on her hip. 

“Well, maybe he could forgive you if it was only your fight with Justice he was angry about. Did you have to make a whole album making fun of him and your time there?” Ianthe put the plate down, her hands shaking from exhaustion. She could barely keep upright, but she was determined not to leave before the conversation was over. 

“Wait, that’s what the album Easterly is about?” Kelan gasped. Lillia nodded. “I’m not sure we can listen to that now. Our grandmother is from Zhao.” 

“Does that mean you’re our enemy now?” Nyalla looked at Ianthe. The tall fiendling knit her brows together. There was something in the darkly made up girl’s tone that was unsettling. 

“No, it just means that you two will need to have very diplomatic relations.” Zeena chuckled. 

“I can see it now, they get even more nervous and stiff around Ianthe to the point they’re moving more jerkily than Amber.” Penny added. 

“I bet a Cockatrice wouldn’t have a stiffer audience.” Hammah chuckled. The three younger students suddenly found something interesting in different parts of the room that had no one near it to stare at. A round of laughter followed. 

“Well, I can see you are hungry and tired.” Lilla shook her head, standing up. “You’ll probably have forgotten half of everything I’ve said. Zeena, can you remind my daughter of what I said tomorrow?” The vampire nodded, her curls bobbing. “Well, I have to go. I still have much to do.” She walked over and hugged Ianthe, wrapping the taller woman in her arms. “Remember, we love you.” She gave Ianthe a peck on the cheek. “We’ll talk more when this is over.”

“Love you too mom.” Ianthe replied, returning the cheek kiss. She was still sure there was something she was missing. She felt hands push her back up the stairs after her mother left. Barely aware of her surroundings, she let Zeena strip her clothing back off before being shoved into the still warm bath. 

“I will place your food here, for when you wake up enough to eat it.” She said, ruffling Ianthe’s hair. Ianthe muttered something before slipping off to sleep, letting the warmth cradle her to sleep.   
When Ianthe woke, she wasn’t sure how much time had passed. She rolled her shoulders as she felt hands pressing into the muscles. The water was only tepid, but her muscles seemed to have relaxed slightly. The soap was still thick and foamy on the surface, blocking everything below Ianthe’s shoulders from sight. Laying on her back had started to give her wings cramps, and she was tempted to raise from the water and stretch them, but the hands were too good at their job for her to disrupt them. 

She sighed contentedly; her eyes still closed. “Penny, where did you learn to give such a good massage? Must be all the tool work you do.” She winced as the hands worked a knot loose. When the muscle finally relax, she let out a slow moan. “I owe you a massage.” She heard a scrabbling at the door. “Hey, can you let Charkassus in? I guess their getting worried. I’ve been in here for too long.”

The hands stopped and nervous feet shuffled to the door. Again, Ianthe’s brows knitted together. Why would Penny be worried about Charkassus? The dragon could be enthusiastic, but they loved Penny. Ianthe slowly forced an eye open just as the door opened. The bronze colored dragon burst into the room and leapt at the tub. Ianthe couldn’t see past the wings and body to see who had opened the door. All she could see was a pair of feet turning the corner. 

Charkassus landed and gave her a long, static-filled lick to the face. Ianthe tried to fend them off, but the dragon’s persistence won out, rubbing against her face and licking her. Nostril’s flaring, the dragon noticed the sandwich. Before Ianthe could haul them away, the sandwiched was snapped up in their jaws. 

“You glutton! That was mine!” Ianthe huffed, a tilt to the edge of her lips betraying the humor she found in the situation. “Fine, I’ll get out and eat like a normal person.”

“Wow, we didn’t think you were still alive. Almost thought an assassin got you in the bath.” Penny joked from the sink as Ianthe came in with an empty plate. “How did you like dinner? I’ve never cooked meat before.”

“I wouldn’t know. Stink breath here ate it before I could.” She pointed to Charkassus, who puffed their chest when Ianthe pointed to them. “Have any more?” Penny chuckled and pointed to the small amount left on the counter. Ianthe shot a murderous glare at the dragon, who chirped and whistled happily. “I owe you so much.” She replied to Penny.

“It’s the least I could do. You’ve all done so much for me. I might as well do what I can for you.” Penny chuckled. 

Ianthe grabbed more food and walked out to the living room. She was slightly surprised to see Quel and the twins were still working. “What are you all still doing here? Isn’t it a little late?” The three of them looked up at her.

“Well, we still had some work to do for Professor Ree…and we wanted to see if you could help us.” Kelan mentioned. 

“We were also wondering what was going to happen with your classes, with what your mother said.” Nyalla muttered into her book. 

Ianthe sat down. Penny and Hammah came into the room, having heard the question. “I’m not sure what it means. I need to tell my professors. You know, I really wish she would have at least asked me before making that choice.” She took a bite of her food. Delicious as it was, it felt leaden and treacly in her throat. 

“Do not worry. I will probably be there to keep you safe.” Zeena gave her a gentle hug from behind. “They may send out whole class.” She pointed out. Ianthe sighed. 

“I’d still rather not miss my other classes though.” She took another bite. “Well, that’s a challenge for tomorrow. Come here, let’s take a look at that homework.” Ianthe leaned forwards, her mind preoccupied as she attempted to help her friends.


	3. Chapter 3

Ianthe was struggling to breath. She was once again in her house, her mother and her in the middle of another of their arguments. This one had been about her getting a tattoo across her stomach. They had argued so much the neighbors had come over to make sure something wasn’t going wrong, even with their family’s reputation. Ianthe was cursing her mother out, calling her old fashioned before stomping off her to room. She could barely breathe, her anger was so overwhelming. 

Ianthe’s eyes popped open. She remembered that she had finally calmed down enough that she could go downstairs and apologize to her mother. Lillia had still grounded her for two weeks, but realized how foolish she had been. However, now her breath was still being stifled. Looking around, she saw a large flank of bronze colored scales on her chest. Ianthe flailed, trying to wriggle out from under the young dragon. With a final heave, she tossed Charkassus from her. The dragon, woken suddenly, squawked in surprise and took off, rushing out of the window. 

“Stupid dragon.” Ianthe gasped out as she hacked, her lungs trying to clear the depleted air. Getting dressed, she stomped her way down the stairs, her gloominess from the dream weighing her down. She didn’t hate her mother. They were both just stubborn. They butted heads so frequently that her father once joked that Lillia was the one who should have had the horns, not him. 

“Need to get something off your chest?” Hammah asked as Ianthe entered the kitchen, grabbing a bowl of the grain mash Hammah had made.

“Har har.” She snorted. “Charkassus nearly suffocated me this morning. Lumox was resting on my chest while I slept.”

Hammah chuckled. “That’s sweet.” Ianthe glared at him, almost willing her gaze to hurt him. “They heard you were in danger and did what dragons do. Sleep on their most prized possessions to keep anyone from taking it from them.” 

“Still, I could do without the oxygen deprivation.” Ianthe smiled slightly at Hammah’s phrasing. She mixed in fruit and honey before munching away, trying to swallow down the food she didn’t feel like eating. 

“So, what are you going to tell your teachers?” Hammah asked, joining her at the table. 

“I don’t know. I would have assumed I’d have more information, since my mom said I’d be leaving today.” Ianthe shook her head. She finished her meal quickly and pulled out her crystal. Her mother’s face appeared on the second chime. “Mom, what’s the deal with this anyways? When is everything happening?”

Lillia groaned. “Couldn’t you have waited for later to call me?” She sighed. “Just visit all of your professors. They have been informed of your departure. Now please, I’m going back to sleep.” The connection dropped. 

“Fine. I guess I’ll visit my professors before class.” Ianthe grabbed her bag from where she had dropped it the night before and stalked towards the door. 

“Aren’t you going to wait for…” Hammah was cut off by the door slamming shut. “Zeena?” He shook his head. He’d let the vampire know when she came down. After a few moments, he remembered why she was leaving and ran up to get the vampire out of whatever she slept in. 

Ianthe grumbled as she walked. She was muttering darkly about her mother meddling in her life when something caught her attention. One of her long ears twitched as she heard the gentle pad of boots behind her. Turning around, there was no one there. Shrugging, she figured it had to be an echo from way off in these halls, even though it didn’t sound like an echo. The footsteps continued as she walked towards the campus. The shadowing bootsteps started grating on her. Finally, the steps were too much for Ianthe. She spun, whipping her wings open.

Pain bit into her wing as the boney edge smacked something small and sharp aside. There was a clatter as the small bolt fell to the ground. Ianthe shuddered as slow fire crept through her veins. Her wing started spasming, throwing her off balance. Another bolt shuddered in the ground behind her. Ianthe realized it would have hit her chest had she not moved. Looking around, she realized the only cover was the large statue in the center of the square. Forcing her shuddering body to respond, she started running the sixty feet to the large statue. 

Two more bolts whizzed past her, one grazing her cheek and the other slicing her jacket. She could feel the same slow fire from the wound on her face. Diving into cover, she removed her Redeemer from its holster and placed her back against the statue. Her body slowly stopped shuddering, acclimating to the poison in her system. She glanced around the statue, pulling her head back just in time for a bolt to carve into the stone near where her head had been. Another bolt cut across her vision, close enough for her to hear the hiss of its passing. Realizing she was facing two attackers, she rolled away from the statue, dropping just below the plinth it stood on for better cover. 

Bellying down, she took a quick look around one corner of the plinth, she saw there was a figure in dark clothing on top of one of the large apartment buildings. It raised its crossbow and fired again. Ianthe grabbed the pistol in both hands and raised a shield around her, deflecting the bolt. Squeezing the trigger twice, two beams of radiant white energy cracked out of the heavy revolver, punching into the stone at the top of the building. 

With her last hand, she pulled out her crystal. “Zeena! I’m being attacked by assassins near the entrance to the University.” She shoved the crystal away before getting a reply. Peeking out from cover again, she saw the first assassin was running for a new vantage point. Raising up slightly, Ianthe unloaded a salvo at the running figure, stitching the air with incandescent beams of light. One of the beams hit the assassin in the shin, separating the lower portion of the leg from the body. The assassin stumbled, falling from the roof and hitting the ground with a sickening crunch. 

Ianthe turned, scouring the roofs for the second assassin. A scream from closer to the University caused her to look lower. The assassin, dressed in similarly dark clothing, was running towards Ianthe, a short straight blade in one hand and a short curved knife in the other. Ianthe holstered the gun and reached for her weapons.

A cold dread filled her when she realized she had removed her scimitars from her belt at class yesterday and hadn’t attached anything in their place. For a moment she stood frozen as the assassin raced closer. Thinking quickly, she called up one of the few spells she could remember. A spectral hand, looking just like her uncle’s, sped out of her outstretched palm and into the chest of the charging assassin. Ianthe contorted the spell, twisting lines of necromantic magic into the hand. The assassin grunted but continued undaunted. 

The first blade came in as a clean thrust, right to Ianthe’s abdomen. A quick beat of her wings propelled her backwards and a second lifted her away from the scything blades. As she flexed for a third flap, her poison wracked muscles spasmed and Ianthe fell, landing awkwardly on her hooves. The assassin’s short blade jabbed inwards, cutting Ianthe’s lower left bicep. The dagger arced in and carved a long gash across her stomach. Ianthe punched out, left upper arm missing the ducking assassin. Her lower right hand thrust forwards, slamming into the assassin’s chest. 

They both jumped back. Ianthe could feel the dull fire of more poison in her veins. The assassin warily circled her, conscious of the large number of people gathering around. Bringing both sets of hands together, Ianthe spread them, letting out a screen of living, necromantic tentacles. Spreading her hands wider, the antilife shell grew till it created a large half-shell of protection. 

The assassin jumped back as lashes of withering reached out, sapping their strength with every touch. As they circled Ianthe, she pivoted to keep the shell between them. She hoped the uncertainty of what would happen if they touch the barrier would keep the assassin at bay till someone came to help her. She knew this was only a delaying tactic and had to find some way to go on the offensive. Before those thoughts could do more than percolate in her mind, the assassin’s arm came whipping up, the knife hurling from their hand. Ianthe dropped the shell and punched the dagger from the air. 

That was all the distraction the assassin needed. Before they had even finished throwing the blade, they were moving. As Ianthe looked back up and tried to get in position, the short sword was driven into her stomach. All four of her hands shot out and pushed the blade away, keeping it from going more than a few inches into her. The force and pain of the blow knocked Ianthe to the floor. 

Stepping around the fiendling, the assassin stood by her head, getting ready to drive the blade into her heart. As they stopped moving, a large stone the size of an orange crashed into their head. Stunned, the assassin stumbled away, bringing their free hand up to gently touch their head. Blood had already seeped through the dark fabric and was running down their neck. Looking back at Ianthe, the assassin attempted to finish the job. As they stumbled forwards, they were met with the screaming fury of a flying body. As Ianthe slipped into unconsciousness, she registered Zeena repeatedly slamming a length of metal into the assassin over and over.

Light blinded Ianthe as her eyes opened. A chill ran through her body, soothing the fire that coursed through her veins. She felt hands gently touching her wounds, the coolness flowing into the wound and closing it. As her eyes adjusted to the light, Ianthe realized she was still lying next to the statue. Zeena was standing over her, the bent metal pole still in her hands. 

“Idiot! You were warned this would happen.” Zeena scowled down at Ianthe. 

“I know…I was just upset.” She looked at the hands touching her. Kelan was kneeling next to her with Hammah. Dark purple energy flowed from Kelan while a light pine green energy flowed from Hammah’s one hand. “How did you get here so fast?” 

“Hammah, the pure soul he is, told us what happened and we left soon after you.” Zeena leaned on the metal pole. 

“What about you?” Ianthe looked over at Kelan. “How’d you get here so quickly?”

“We’re getting here for the trip West.” Kelan replied, wringing his hands together. “Nyalla and Quel went ahead to check us in. I was coming back to wait for you. What, did you think you were going by yourself?”

“No.” Ianthe looked at him in surprise. “But I figured they wouldn’t send first year students.” Hammah held his hand out, helping Ianthe to her feet. 

“Well, Quel comes from a wooded region near the area, and Nyalla and I are actually from Lycrest, so they figured having us there would give the group an advantage.” Kelan stood, obviously nervous.  
“Wait…when did you learn you were part of the expedition?” Ianthe asked as she went to help Zeena search the bodies for anything.

“Well, the expedition has been planned for the past two weeks. Your mom got you in at the last moment.” Kelan chuckled nervously. “We only got pulled in at the last moment. We got the call earlier today.” 

Ianthe grunted as she looked at what the assassins had on them. There were a few coins and their weapons, but no other information or identifying marks on them. “Come on, we might as well get this over with. Do you know which professors are coming?” Ianthe started off towards the entrance to the University when she saw some guards approaching. She turned to Kelan. “Can you find out the information I need? I’m guessing they want to talk to me, and it will take a while.”

Zeena and Hammah waited with Ianthe as she answered the guard’s questions. She showed them everything they found on the assassins and were told to wait as the investigators were called for. Hammah, only having arrived to heal Ianthe, was able to leave and head to class. While they were still waiting for the investigators, Kelan came back with the information packet for the trip. Looking at the time of departure, Ianthe realized she would barely have time to get home and pack. Most of the delegation were diplomats, but Ianthe was surprised that Professor Legornne was coming, since not all of his class was. She hoped there was someone who was going to take his place. 

“Am I done here?” Ianthe asked eventually. The guards waved her away. “Come on, I still need to pack.” Ianthe grumbled to Zeena. 

“No need. I have already packed for you.” Zeena beamed. “While you were bathing yesterday. I will not let you from my sight until the threat is over. I am going too. You mother got me sent along with you as well.” She stood straighter, tilting her nose up haughtily. 

“What if I meet someone and want some alone time with them?” Ianthe teased, poking Zeena in the ribs.

“As if! You are still as pure and innocent in that regard as I am.” Ianthe slumped as Zeena spoke. Pouting, she started walking back to their house.

“Well, we still need our luggage.” Ianthe countered eventually, trying to regain some dignity. 

When they got back to the University, they were weighed down with their luggage and a capering dragon. Ianthe had balked at the number of bags, but Zeena was steadfast that they needed all of this. They needed regular clothing, their combat gear, and a lot of professional and dignified clothing. Zeena convinced Ianthe to carry two of her bags while she held her other two. Ianthe had somehow managed to reduce her bags down to two, one for clothing and one for supplies. 

“This is going to be a lot of fun.” Zeena twirled, her skirts floating out gently. Putting her bag down, she walked over to Penny and Hammah. “I wish you could be coming, but you need to stay for your classes. Think of visiting us if we are still in Lycrest for winter break?” She pulled out a small pouch. “Here is for rent and food. Do not have too many wild parties without us, and we promise to do the same.” The bubbly raven-haired woman handed over the pouch, her lower lip quivering. After a moment, she swept both of them up in a rib bending hug. “I will miss you both so much!”

“We’ll miss you too Zeena. The house won’t be as bright without you around.” Penny hugged her back.

“I’ll miss you too. Hopefully we get back before the winter settles in. I hear the snow out there is deeper than here.” Ianthe chuckled, shivering in sympathy as Penny gasped. She knew the small sun elf was still getting used to snow, having lived in the desert for most of her life. 

“Why do you want to scare her away?” Zeena pouted, picking her bags back up. “I need my little Penny to visit us.” She batted her eyes at Penny before bouncing away to the rest of the group gathering near the great elevator banks. Ianthe sighed and gave each of them a hug.

“Don’t worry, we won’t get in trouble without you two.” Ianthe gave them a last hug before turning away. She walked over to join the rest of the group. Most of them were professors and diplomats, but there were a few students waiting around, most of them apparently being used to help carry bags and boxes for the professionals. 

Ianthe immediately went to wait with Zeena, who was chatting away with Quel. The Arbor twins were struggling under their own bags, as well as a pair of heavy, but small, boxes that had been dropped into their arms. A chill ran down her spine as she felt a gentle hand rest on her shoulder. Looking over her shoulder, Ianthe’s heart sank. The cloaked figure of Professor Ree was hovering just behind her. Unlike most times, Ianthe was able to see Ree’s face. Her professor favored her with a slight smile and wink. 

“I’m going to need a hand with some of my supplies.” She pointed to a pair of bags. “As my equipment is very delicate, I will transport them. Can you carry my bags?” 

“Really? You’re going to do this?” The fiery words were out of her mouth before Ianthe could stop them. 

“Yes.” If Ree was fazed, she didn’t show it. “I want you to carry my things. As my assistant, it’s well within my rights to ask you.” She floated closer, her hood falling over her face. “Why, are you worried about something?”

Ianthe glanced over and saw a lot of the students were staring at them. She knew their conversation had been too quiet for anyone to have overheard, but the tones were easy for them to discern.   
“Only about being too overburdened and dropping something.” Ianthe said back. 

“Don’t worry, I’m carrying all of the fragile things. You will be carrying books and clothing.” She signed and placed a gentle hand on Ianthe’s shoulder. “Look, I know you missed most of your first year. You finished two years in one last year. You finished the requirements for your course of study, but you decided to stay on in my class. I don’t want you to lose another year.”

Ianthe narrowed her eyes. Something felt wrong about this confession but she couldn’t put her finger on it. “Is that why you are coming? Because you don’t want me to lose another year?”

“In part. I asked for you to be my assistant. This will make it easier for me to help you with your studies. Quel, Kelan, and Nyalla are all here to give us some local knowledge. I’ll still be teaching all of you, but I think you are ready for some...special tutelage.” She lowered her hand. “And please, don’t tell anyone what we spoke of.” She floated away to the other professors. Confused, Ianthe picked up the extra bags and walked over to her friends. 

“What was that about?” Quel asked, his voice shaking. “I thought she was going to kill you when you spoke back to her.” 

“She almost did.” Ianthe replied, still distracted. Slight gasps of awe escaped the first years. Zeena tried to hide her smile by lowering her parasol so no one could see her face. She could tell the difference between fear and confusion with Ianthe, and this was definitely not fear. 

They rode the elevators down to the train station in nervous silence. They all stood, facing the grating, as the gears and servos whirred and clacked around them. Zeena leaned in and rested her head on Ianthe’s arm. Ianthe grunted as Zeena’s added weight was added to her, but she leaned in and butted Zeena’s head back.

As they filed into the train, Ianthe tossed her bags into one of the smaller rooms, letting Charkassus take up residence on them. She tried to spread out enough to keep anyone from sitting with her. The old leather creaked under her as she dropped onto one of the benches. She closed her eyes, letting her aching muscles relax.

“Give us some room or we will be forced to sit on you.” Zeena’s voice sounded from the doorway. Ianthe groaned and sat up, moving the bags from the benches to the metal grilled shelves above and below the benches. Zeena jumped in, landing in the darkest part of the car. Quel came bounding in after her, sliding into the window seat. Before Ianthe could sit down, Kelan had taken the last seat. Shoulders dropping with disappointment, Ianthe hefted her dragon and sat down, dropping Charkassus onto her lap. Nyalla tentatively sat down on the other side of the dragon. 

“Soon, you’re going to be too large for this. You’ll have to ride on the roof.” She grunted, trying to find a comfortable position for her wings and tail. She was having a difficult time with Charkassus sitting on her. Nyalla chuckled as she watched Ianthe struggling to shift the dragon. “Here, you take them if you think it's that funny.” Ianthe heaved.

“No, I don’t want to be crushed by a dragon!” Nyalla gasped as Ianthe and Charkassus wrestled.

“Yeah, she’d rather be…Ouch!” Kelan yelped as a foot slammed into his shin. Nyalla glared at her twin, her cheeks turning a vivid purplish red. Quel and Zeena chuckled. 

“Fine, you win!” Ianthe, attention completely absorbed by Charkassus, tossed her arms in the air and let the dragon sleep on her lap. She had missed the exchange and looked up as everyone laughed. “Why’re you two looking so embarrassed? I’m the one who’s losing to a pet.” Nyalla blushed deeper, tucking her legs up under her skirt and wedging herself into the corner. 

“Coming from Lycrest, you should know how long the train ride is.” Zeena turned to Quel and Kelan. “Do you want to play Convalesce?” She pulled out the board and the set of cards. Ianthe was about to warn them about her cutthroat playing style, but she held back. She had taken pity on Penny when she was still so nervous, but Kelan and Quel seemed to be eager to play. She would let them see the error of their ways. 

She turned to Nyalla. “Since I’ve got this overgrown lizard pinning me down, care to keep me company?” Nyalla looked over at her sibling and friend, who had just started the game with a vampire who’s grin was getting too big. 

“What did you have in mind?” She asked, sliding a little closer. 

“Maybe you could read the next chapter of _The Macabre Star_?” Ianthe asked, referring to the book Ree had given them to read. Nyalla nodded and pulled out her book, opening it to the beginning of the chapter and started reading.


	4. Chapter 4

Night fell and Ianthe stretched her legs, carefully placing her hooves as she tried to sneak out of the car. They had been on the train for the past few days. It was three days to the border with Lycrest, and another two to get to the capital. They had one more day till they got to the border. Charkassus was currently sleeping on the roof, the weather still warm with occasional early fall showers. They had all been surprised when they found the walls folded out to make four small cots on the walls and one on the floor in the middle of the room. 

Zeena had immediately taken the top level, claiming cryptically that she lighted to perch at night. The others took a quick draw of cards to see who would have to sleep below her. Kelan, the continual target of her affections, lost the draw and had to sleep below her. Nyalla had taken the other low bunk and Quel had hopped up to the top bunk. Ianthe had already claimed the floor, finding it easier to sleep there with her wings and tail. 

As she walked out of the compartment, she gently closed the door, stopping right before the latch clicked shut. Moving carefully, she quietly made her way to the back door and slipped out to the small platform on the back of the car. Ianthe was battered suddenly by the rushing night air, her wings inflating slightly. She stretched her massive wings, glad to be out of the confined compartment, even if for a short while. She watched the night landscape rush by, the clatter and chugging of the train drowning out all other noise. After a few minutes of leaning on the rail, her tail tapped against a leg.

Looking behind her, Ianthe saw Nyalla standing there in her pajamas. Ianthe chuckled to herself as she remembered Nyalla coming back from the bathroom in her pajamas. They were an oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants. It looked like a casual version of her normal clothing. The only big difference was that these were lime green, rather than black. She stood there, arms wrapped around herself to keep her sweatshirt from fluttering. 

“What’re you doing out here?” She asked Ianthe, swaying as the train rumbled onwards. 

“Getting some fresh air and flexing my wings.” Ianthe spread her wings carefully, as if to prove a point. “Join me over here.” She held one wing up to give Nyalla room to stand next to her at the railing. The human hesitated for a moment before taking the proffered spot. Ianthe lowered her wing around Nyalla, blocking some of the wind. 

“Why are you doing that now? Wouldn’t it be better during the day?” She shivered as the wing lay against her, her heart rate increasing. 

“I love the night.” Ianthe chuckled. Her laughter died and she looked at the stars in the sky. “You remember I said I’m unique even compared to other fiendlings?” 

“Yeah. You then followed it by threatening me.” Nyalla huddled against the wing, secretly reveling in the warmth and the touch. 

A smile flashed across Ianthe’s face before she returned to her contemplative stare. “It’s because of the stars. My mother was exposed to multiple instances of raw ore from the Comet.” She pointed to the stars with the upper arm closest to Nyalla. “I keep thinking, what about other falling stars, are they just like the Comet, or was it singular?”

“Do you want the comet to come back?” Nyalla asked, moving a small shuffle closer towards Ianthe.

“Scales no!” Ianthe gasped, still looking up. “My mother told me what it was like without much magic in the world. I’d rather be in this world. Still, it’s wonderful to look at the stars and think, if they came here, maybe we can go there.” She leaned her lower arms against the railing and leaned forwards. 

They stood there for a few minutes, staring at the passing skyscape. Ianthe looked over and realized Nyalla had started shivering. “I don’t want to get you sick. I’ll be back in a minute. I just want to stare at the stars a little more.”

Nyalla shook her head. “I’m ok. I want to look at the stars too.” Her teeth chattered and she was huddled into herself, trying to retain some warmth. 

“You’ll freeze. If I go in, will you go in?” Nyalla nodded after a moment. Ianthe wrapped an arm around Nyalla to keep her from stumbling and opened the heavy exterior door to the train car. As she closed the door, she could see Nyalla’s skin was very pale. “You’re an idiot, you know? You’re ice cold.” Nyalla didn’t reply, her teeth chattering too hard to form coherent words. 

Dragging her along, Ianthe pulled Nyalla into their room. The heat of the other bodies had kept this room almost stifling compared to the wind outside. Quel was gently snoring, a soft, bleating sound to one side, while Kelan and Zeena were deathly quiet on the other side. As they got into the warmth, Nyalla shuddering increased. Gently, Ianthe lowered the two of them to the pad she had set out for her bed. Reaching over, she pulled down Nyalla’s blankets on top of them. 

“This is only for tonight because you’re an idiot and I don’t want you to get sick and die.” Ianthe murmured, nestling the human against her body as she piled up the blankets. “If you do this again I will let you freeze, understand?” Nyalla nodded. “Now, go to sleep.” Gingerly, she wrapped all four arms and her wings around Nyalla and, nestled in a nest of limbs, Nyalla slowly drifted off to sleep. 

Ianthe didn’t get any more sleep that night. She laid awake as Nyalla snuggled up next to her. The girl’s chills eventually died away, but Ianthe was worried for a moment she would have to get one of the medics they had in their party. She didn’t want to grab them and have to answer potentially awkward questions to them and her twin, but she would if Nyalla’s temperature didn’t rise. Once the shivering stopped and Nyalla had settled in to sleep, more concerning questions flooded Ianthe’s mind.

She had a good idea why Nyalla had been so adamant with staying out there with her. Like most others who weren’t immediately scared away, Nyalla seemed to be taken by the fact that she was a fiendling. They were very rare, despite having been around since even before the Cataclysm. Most people could go their whole lives without meeting a fiendling. She even hated the name, but it was hard to get people to understand the multiverse theory, that there were multiple prime material planes, so the name planetouched had never taken hold, especially when so many looked like fiends. 

She could feel the small human pressing back into her. At this point, her entire length was pressed tightly against the fiery warmth of Ianthe’s infernal warmth. She couldn’t help but look down at the supine form against her and smile. It felt nice to hold someone against her. Ianthe thought back to when they had met. Nyalla had wanted to see if the rumor about fiendlings was true. Everyone did. Thankfully, after a quick word from Ianthe, Nyalla never asked again, but Ianthe had caught the girl looking at her at times, and it raised something in her blood. Her father told her this would happen at times, a legacy from her grandmother. She could feel it now, raising through her body, telling her to take this human and in no uncertain terms, show her the rumors are true. 

Biting her lip till it bled, she pushed those thoughts away. For a moment, she felt she could hear a small huff of annoyance in her head. She wasn’t sure if it was her own want she had snuffed or that of her grandmother. Either way, she felt her cheeks burn with shame with the visions that had coursed through her mind. Looking back down at the girl in her arms, she tried to focus on the memories of them in class, trying to drive the other images from her mind. Finally, she could feel her blood starting to cool. She remained cocooned around Nyalla for a few more minutes, to make sure she wouldn’t start shivering again or wake up. Carefully, Ianthe extracted her large frame and limbs from the sleeping human and she once again left the compartment, grabbing her bag as she left.

Rather than staying in their car, she wandered forwards to the other cars. After passing through two other sleepers, she found herself in the meal car. Figuring this was as good a place as any, she sat down and pulled out some of her homework. Summoning a mote of pure, purple tinted light to read by, she started working on the paper Ree had asked for them to have finished by the time they disembarked. They had all planned on working on it in the morning, but Ianthe’s restlessness compelled her to do something. 

The scratching of her pen was the only sound other than the muted train noise, line after line appearing on the page as she wrote her paper. Eventually, she pulled out a slate and chalk, and started drawing figures and arcane symbols. Her eyes started drooping after an hour of experimenting. She chuckled as her head nearly hit the table. They weren’t trying to make their own spells, but to discover the previous spells already created. They could even add their own flares to it, although the spells were often difficult enough that none of them had tried. 

The first years were currently working on a spell to help preserve the dead. Ianthe had passed that spell and was currently working on something more advanced. From the description in the book they were reading, it was meant to give the caster unnatural amounts of life. Ianthe was unsure how to test the spell, but she figured that by the time she had figured out the somatic components she would have a better idea. 

“You know, you don’t have to pull an all-nighter.” Ree’s voice floated from the entrance to the meal car. Ianthe started awake, her limbs jerking spasmodically as they all tried to figure out what was going on independently. “Especially if you are this tired. Like I said, I don’t want to work you into the ground.” 

Ianthe shook her head, looking at her slate. The writing was illegible, a landscape of chicken scratch and smudges. “It’s not this work. I was just doing this because I had nothing else to do.”

“So now you’ve given up on sleeping?” Ree glided into the seat across from Ianthe, placing two large mugs on the table. She pushed one to Ianthe. Taking the mug, she sniffed, realizing it was a sweet juice. Ree held out a flask and offered to add something to the drink. “To help you sleep.”

Ianthe looked into the elf’s eyes. She hadn’t realized that Ree had removed the shadows from her cowl until those eyes held her gaze. She could see no ill intent in Ree’s eyes, just concern. “I’d rather alcohol so I could forget.” She mumbled. Raising one hand, she tipped the flask so a thick, honey-like drop fell into her drink. 

“What happened?” Ree asked, taking a sip of her own drink. Ianthe was too tired to wonder why Ree had a store of sleeping draught with her. 

“Nyalla.” Ianthe took a small sip. She tasted the sweetness of berries, and a slight honeysuckle under-flavor. She took a deeper swallow of the drink. She could feel a warmth spread through her, making her lethargic. “I was just watching the sky, and she came out in only her night clothes. Nearly froze to death. I had to hold her to warm her back up. I’m sure she did it on purpose, so I’d have to hold her.” Ianthe rested her chin petulantly on her lower arms. 

“And you don’t want that?” Ree asked, her voice even, enticing Ianthe to answer.

“I don’t know. Part of me does, but that’s the same part of me that makes my cousins hate me and the rest of my family. I hate that part of me.” She grumbled. “Not the extra arms, wings, horns, or even tail. What I hate is the voice in my head, telling me to do things. When I was looking down at Nyalla, I had been thinking that she had done this on purpose. She had asked about the rumors about tieflings and was pressed against my body. The voice in my head told me that I should make her aware of how true the rumors are.” She took another drink and could feel herself drifting off to sleep. “My father told me about the voice when I was younger. For him, it was his mother. I never met her, so it might be the same for me.” She drained her cup and started to sway slightly. “I had to get out of there. I couldn’t sleep there anymore…at least if I still wanted some self-respect…and to not be seen as a monster.” She slumped against the table, snoring slightly with the odd angle she had crumpled into.   
Ree smiled slightly. She remembered what it was to be a young idiot. Eyes turning green and purple with power, she manufactured a skeleton from the bag with her. With a mental flick, she sent it to gather some blankets and a pillow. When the skeleton returned, she set to work with it, making sure Ianthe was comfortable. She sat up the rest of the night, pulling out a few files to read over them as she made sure no one interrupted Ianthe.

Ianthe’s nose twitched as she slept. She could smell bacon, a lot of bacon. Her head swiveled as her nose tried to find the source of the succulent smell. Her limbs spasmed as she felt the floor drop from below her. With a loud thump, Ianthe hit the floor under the table. Flailing awake, she sat up and cracked her horns against the underside of the table. The memories of what happened last night bubbled to the surface as she held her aching head. Looking out from under the table, Ianthe saw the car was still empty. There was one servant who was cleaning up, and a pair of legs inhabited the bench Ree had been on the previous night. 

Crawling out from under the table, she saw Nyalla sitting at the table. Ianthe’s work was still scattered over half of the table, but on the other half was plates stacked with bacon, biscuits and gravy, roasted potatoes, and eggs. Nyalla was biting her lower lip, idly playing with a piece of paper. She didn’t react as Ianthe stood and stretched and sat across from her. She quickly shoved the plates over towards Ianthe, indicating she wanted her to eat them. 

“Are you going to have me guess what type of love potion you put in this?” Ianthe asked as she picked up a slice of bacon, her stomach growling ferociously. 

“No!” Nyalla squeaked. She buried her cherry red face in her hands. “I’m sorry. I know what I did last night was stupid…I just…I was just enjoying being able to be a normal person with you. I didn’t want it to end.” She muttered the last part into her hands. Ianthe took a huge bite of the bacon. 

“You know, you can treat me like a normal person around others as well.” She took another bite of the bacon as she opened a biscuit. “And what did I tell you about asking about those rumors?”  
“I know.” Nyalla looked even more defeated. She started to slide off the bench. 

“Sit.” The orders shot out from Ianthe’s mouth. Nyalla froze, unsure what was going to happen. Her hear hammered in her chest as she looked at Ianthe, seeming to notice exactly how fiendish she looked. “I’m going to forget that last night was anything other than two friends enjoying some night sky. But you can never do that again. If you want to get into my bed, you will have to be upfront, ask me, and be ready to face rejection at every turn. Because of what I am, I will want to do things. Because of who I am, I will not do them, and if the urge is too great, you will have to stay away.” She held Nyalla’s gaze, freezing her to the seat. “We are friends. Don’t try to force anything more, you won’t like it.”

Nyalla, terrified, barely remembered to nod as Ianthe pinned her with her gaze. She barely registered what was happening, feeling like she was a guest in someone else’s body. She didn’t remember standing and walking back towards their train compartment. Ianthe wondered if she had been too hard on Nyalla, but the memory of that voice in her head reminded her that this was for both of their goods. Her stomach grumbled again and she dug back into her food. 

Thirty minutes later, Ianthe was still digging into her food, having slowed down to continue working on her paper. The door to the meal car opened and Zeena came in. She was dressed in one of her usual flowing dresses. This one was a dark purple rather than black, but still close enough to confuse most passersby. She flopped down into the bench opposite Ianthe. 

“So, I take it someone noticed her admirer.” Zeena said nonchalantly. “I owe Penny some coin. I told her it would take till she was trying to mount you till you realized.”

Ianthe took a deep breath, her nostrils flaring as she released the breath. She carefully put down her pencil and took a deep drink of water. Slowly placing the glass down, she looked at Zeena. “You knew?” Her voice showed the strain of controlling her anger.

Zeena rolled her eyes. “Of course we did. It was obvious. Nyalla is so taken with you she will do whatever you want. But from how she came back, I want to say you do not like her attentions?”

“It’s not that I don’t want attention.” Ianthe groaned. She rubbed her face with her lower hands. “It’s that I want people to be upfront about their intentions with me…and having my grandmother shut up would be nice. You know, I’d love to be able to lean into someone for a kiss without her trying to have me pounce on them and claim them.”

Zeena chuckled. “I do not envy you one bit. How about we forget about this and take some weapons practice? That should distract you long enough.” Ianthe nodded, taking another bite of bacon.

“Let me finish here and we can go practice. I should probably apologize to Nyalla.” Ianthe quickly finished the rest of her food and went back to grab her weapons. Kelan and Quel were both nose deep in their books, and Nyalla was trying to look distracted by some work, her pen waving back and forth, as hypnotizing as a metronome. 

Ianthe picked up her blades and looked down at Nyalla. “I’m sorry I terrified you. Still doesn’t change what I said, but we’re still friends.” She squeezed Nyalla’s shoulder with one of her lower hands before heading out to go practice with Zeena.


	5. Chapter 5

Gratefully, Ianthe stepped off the train and looked around at the train station in Goffsmark, the capital of Lycrest. Unlike Karak, where buildings of stone stacked upon each other, or the City of Mirrors with its towering, glittering edifices, The buildings here were all low and widely spaced. The sides were a mix of whites, greens, and yellows, and the roofs were low and covered in ceramic slates. They all followed a similar style of construction. A wide first floor with shingles around the edges, and a central tower for a second floor with a pointed shingle roof. Larger buildings followed this same pattern, but with multiple tiers, almost becoming pyramids. 

Kelan was smiling, hefting his bags onto the wagon that had been sent for them. He and Quel were chatting amiably, obviously happy to be home. Zeena was holding her parasol tightly, worried about the sun blazing in the sky. She was gingerly moving only one bag at a time, nervous about releasing her shade. Ianthe went over to help load up the bags. With her added strength and hands, they were able to load up the remaining bags for their group and the professors before too long. 

The only one who didn’t seem to help was Nyalla. She had moved her bags over, but didn’t lift a hand beyond that. She was too busy staring out over the Capital. Once she had tossed the final bag onto the wagons, Ianthe walked up behind her, content to wait while Nyalla was silent.

However, Ianthe was not a very patient woman. After a minute or two, she tapped Nyalla on the shoulder. The small human jumped, letting out a high-pitched squeak of surprise. She turned around, dark purple energy encasing on hand. When she saw it was only Ianthe, the energy dissipated and she hugged herself, trying to suppress the small shivers wracking her frame. 

“What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy to come home for a visit.” Ianthe kept her distance, unsure what was setting her friend off. 

“No, I’m happy to be home…but I’m also nervous.” She looked back at the city once more before walking to the waiting wagons. “It’s hard living in this land as a noble. Our family has been very powerful for a long time, but with all of that power comes many responsibilities. It was a rare day that my parents and aunts and uncles weren’t exhausted. But the power they wield…that sort of power breeds resentment in those without it.”

“Are you worried about revolts?” Ianthe asked, climbing onto the top of their wagon. Nyalla looked for a moment at the wagon and the tall top of it. Ianthe reached down. Taking her outstretched hand, Nyalla leveraged herself onto the top of the wagon.

“No. For the most part, my family is well liked. It’s the other nobles, especially those of large holdings or no holdings we need to watch out for. Some of them are willing to overturn the stability of the country for some land of their own.” She shook her head. As they approached the city, Nyalla slid closer in to Ianthe.

“Great, we leave so I’m not a target of assassination, but now you are.” Ianthe chuckled, tucking a large wing over her diminutive friend.

“Normally they don’t send assassins.” Nyalla replied as they rolled past the first of the houses. They could see a few people, mostly elders and children, peek out of the houses at them. It seemed travelers came often enough that they held no special attention. “Normally, they challenge you to a duel. We were sent away for school because it was safer to learn away from home.”

“Do you have to fight the duel?” Ianthe asked, looking at the people staring. Those that had come out were gawping at her. Most of them had probably never seen a fiendling, and her wings didn’t help much. Off-handedly, she wondered if they were about to be attacked by a fearful mob. Her lower hands strayed close to her hilts just in case. 

“If we don’t, the law considers it that we have lost the duel.” Nyalla pulled Ianthe’s wing down a little and waved to the people staring. A whispered hush fell through the crowd as they spotted Nyalla waving. People started waving back, smiling and calling out. Ianthe leaned closer, trying to pick out the names they were using. 

The wagons rumbled through the outskirts of the city and made their way into the more compact heart, where the larger towers were. As they got closer, Ianthe realized that while the smaller buildings were all made from wood and ceramic, the larger buildings were made of stone, and sometimes even with metal supports. The streets filled with more traffic, people walking about their work, shopping, hawking wares, and transporting goods. The wagons slowed their crawl to a snail’s pace in the crush of bodies around them. 

The pressure eased up as a group of knights mounted on massive lizard like creatures rode forwards. Ianthe couldn’t call them soldiers. There was too much pomp and gaudiness to them to be regular soldiers. She could see each of them had a distinctly different heraldry on their breastplate and shield. Nyalla flushed and tucked herself closer to Ianthe. The wagons came to a stop in front of the line of heavy knights. 

“Greetings, delegation from Queen Aimee of the Shimmering City. We are the Ivory Guard. We shall escort you to your destination.” The leader, his armor resplendent in gold and silver filigree, every inch elegant with tracery and friezes, waved the knights around the wagons. Murmurs sprung up from the crowd. Ianthe looked around and saw most of the people were whispering to each other and pointing at either the knights or the wagon train. The mood to the crowd had changed as the leader, Ianthe wasn’t sure of their title, lead them forwards. He had stopped far enough away from the wagons that he had needed to pitch his voice so everyone could hear. 

They all remained silent as the knights led them the rest of the way through the town to the large edifice with nearly a dozen towers. The rumors had spread fast, and before they had even left the square, people were cheering them as the wagons passed. More people were flocking to the streets, waving hands, cloths, and in a few places, even wildflowers were tossed at them. 

It took them nearly an hour to travel the remaining half mile from the square to the massive castle. Ianthe had smiled at the festive atmosphere, and even joined in, tossing some of the flowers she caught down onto Zeena. For her part, the vampire waved at the people, a warm, closed mouth smile on her face the whole time. Kelan and Quel seemed to be enjoying the attention, calling back to well-wishers. Even some of the diplomats and professors joined in the greeting, showing restraint by merely waving and smiling politely. 

Only Nyalla and Ree seemed to be sitting out of the celebration. Ree was sitting immobile and passive, seemingly oblivious to the celebration around her. Ianthe had the momentary urge to throw some of the flowers at her professor, but her instinct for self-preservation took over and she remained where she was. Nyalla on the other hand, was shaking and nervously waving. 

“Afraid of crowds?” Ianthe asked, her voice quiet enough to not be heard over the crowds. Nyalla merely shook her head and continued to offer hesitant waves to the crowd. When they finally passed the mass of people and entered the large thoroughfare leading to the forest of towers they had spied. The street was paved with flat cobblestones and was wide enough for six wagons to pass, three on each side, with a median lined with well-manicured trees. There were shops and stalls all along the concourse, even some near the median. Ianthe saw there were people relaxing next to some of the trees. Many were eating, some were playing music or reading, but all of them were watching the wagon train as it rumbled towards the castle made of towers.

They had travelled nearly the entire length of the kilometer long concourse when a high-pitched squeal. Everyone turned, hands on weapons or magic playing around fingers. Time started dilating, slowing down around Ianthe as her heart beat faster and adrenaline coursed through her veins. She hopped up, her massive wings beating. The squeal sounded again, clearly coming from one of the shops to their right. 

Beating her wings, Ianthe flew over to see what was making such a noise through the crowd of people. Looking around, she saw a pair of soldiers pushing through the crowd, clearly chasing something small. The squeal came again, and this time, Ianthe realized it was a squeal of joy and surprise. She had heard her younger brothers give both often enough. She circled lower, trying to spy the child in the crowd. People started backing away, watching this fiendish woman coming closer to landing on them. A moment later, a small human child tottled out of the crowd, running at the wagons. 

Homing in on her target, Ianthe swooped down and grabbed the small child with all four hands, holding him close to her as she flew out of the crowd to a clear space. The toddler in her arms was laughing and squealing with delight the entire time. 

Ianthe landed heavily, sparks shooting up from her hooves as they clattered against the stone. She folded her wings around the child, smiling down at the small boy. She heard Nyalla call out to her. Turning to her friends and companions, she waved one of her hands to show that she was ok. A confused look crossed her face as she saw Nyalla, Kelan, Quel, and Lord Volpoin racing towards her. The first three she might have guessed, but to see the head diplomat racing towards her made the situation surreal. 

Turning, she saw the terrified expression of all the people around her. Cocking her head to the side, she looked at the guards who were still rushing towards them. As they burst through the crowd, Ianthe saw the sigil on their forward shoulder guard. Comprehension dawned on her as long blades were drawn and pointed at her. Looking down into her arms, she realized she was holding one of the Royal children. Carefully, she lowered herself to place child on the ground. The child, laughing the whole time, grabbed onto her horns and tried to pull them around, thinking they were toys. With her upper hands, Ianthe pulled the tiny hands off her horns as her lower hands placed the child down. 

Spreading her arms and her wings, she tried to back off the child. She made it one step before she felt a blade poke into her back. “Stay where to you are, fiend.” A voice boomed out from the guards. Ianthe noticed one of them was wielding a stylized longsword, looking more like the flames coming from a dragon’s mouth than a blade. A pale green glow erupted from the sword, lighting up Ianthe, but doing nothing more. The guard looked at her in confusion. “Back to whatever hell you came from!” he cried, flashing the light again. 

“I could just walk over there.” Ianthe pointed to her group, most of them running over to her. 

“You aren’t a fiend?” The guard asked, perplexed. 

“No, I just look like one.” Ianthe sighed. “My grandmother’s the one you want to cast that spell on.”

“Ianthe!” Nyalla yelled, chest heaving as she gasped for breath. “Stand back!” She commanded to the guards. She was holding an amulet in on hand. Upon seeing the amulet, the guards stood to attention, blades held to attention vertically in front of them. 

“Your Highness.” They all intoned together. The leader, the one with the dragon flame blade, stepped forwards. “You know this…woman? We were protecting his Highness while he and his mother were in the market.”

“It’s ok.” Nyalla stammered out between gasps. “You were doing your duty well. This woman is my good friend and one of the diplomatic party from the Shimmering City.” She stepped into the ring of guards.

The child saw Nyalla and cooed, toddling towards her. “Nya’ya!” He wrapped his arms around Nyalla’s legs. 

"Loggon, what are you doing here? Why did you run from your mother?” She asked, gently peeling the boy off her legs. 

“Wins!” He cheered, flapping his arms. “Wins!” He turned to Ianthe, trying to grab the lower edge of her wings. 

“Your Highness, it is not safe to run away from your mother.” The captain’s voice was soft and gentle. He had sheathed his blade and carefully pulled the child to his chest. 

“Loggon! Loggon!” An elven woman cried, running out of the crowd, three additional guards surrounding her. She was about Nyalla’s height, her skin a pale ivory, highlighted by her copper red hair. She was dressed in a yellow dress, with a sky-blue tunic underneath and a royal blue vest over it. Reddish copper buttons and thread accented the outfit, shining like little flames. She plucked her son from the captain’s hands and held him tight to her chest. “How was he allowed to get this far? Explained yourself, Captain Elwood!” Her narrow features had turned into blades, each one being aimed at the far larger captain. 

“Wins mama! Wins!” Loggon chortled, grabbing for Ianthe’s wings again, despite being well out of reach. “Fly!” The child’s mother’s face lost most of its harshness. Relaxed, Ianthe realized that the woman, even though one of the long-lived elves, couldn’t be more than a few years older than she was. 

A smile worked its way onto the woman’s face for a moment, before it was replaced with a worried frown. “I know you want to fly, but you can’t just run away Loggon.” She held the boy tighter to her chest. “Captain, I apologize for my outburst. I know how my son can get when he is excited.”

“Still, your Highness, the fault is mine.” Captain Elwood started. The woman waved her hand dismissively and turned to Ianthe and Nyalla. By this point, the whole train had stopped and everyone had come over to try and smooth out the altercation. The woman’s eyes widened with surprise. 

“Nyalla, Kyla! I didn’t expect to see you.” Her smile appeared still and stilted. 

“Lycrest is our home too, and we have every reason to want to help it.” Kelan replied, his lips pinched tightly together. 

“As I told the good captain here, we are part of the diplomatic group from the Shimmering City to help negotiate continued trade and assistance to Lycrest.” Nyalla stepped forward, cutting her brother off. “We were on our way to the castle. I’m sure we will be seeing you later, Aurella.” She smiled, bobbed a small curtsey, which seemed odd coming from someone in pants, and walked away, towing her brother after her. It reminded Ianthe of when her mother got an idea in her head. She was a small woman, but when she was on a mission, she could drag mountains. 

Aurella turned to Ianthe and the rest of the group. “Well, I hope to see the rest of you later for formal introductions. But for now, please go with my thanks.” She smiled at Ianthe before turning around and walking back to the shop she had been patroning at the time. Loggon, securely held in his mothers arms, watched as Ianthe got farther and farther away, the wings he had been so intrigued by slowly moving out of sight. 

Once they were back on the wagons and moving again, Zeena turned to Kelan. “I am sorry to ask, but why did she call you two Nyalla and Kyla?” 

Nyalla, who had decided to ride inside of the wagon rather than on the roof, answered. “Because, she wants to remind us that she is here because our mother produced no legitimate heirs and she has.” Nyalla wrapped her arms around her brother. Ianthe noticed that Nyalla was no longer the one shaking, but now it was Kelan who looked a moment away from all his body parts falling off. 

“Legitimate heirs?” Zeena asked. “Were your parents not married when you were conceived?” She gave Quel and Ianthe a confused look. 

“Yes.” Kelan’s voice dripped with scorn. When no other answer was forthcoming, Zeena opened her mouth to ask another question, but Quel shook his head. Realizing she wasn’t going to learn any more, Zeena slouched in her seat, parasol hold low over her, making a small privacy screen. Ianthe sat back, swaying with the rocking on the wagon. Her tail flicked randomly as she thought about the interaction she had just been witness to. 

Her first conclusion were that her friends were royalty, but not of a level that would ever see them ruling, if that baby was the heir. She couldn’t remember anything about Lycrest passing power by primogenitur, but if she were honest with herself, she hadn’t paid too much attention in class that day. If it had something to do with being male, then why wasn’t…

Ianthe nearly fell off as the realization hit her. Both of the Arbor twins had been born female. She nearly leaned over to ask when another thought stopped her. She had no idea if that was true or not. If this wasn’t a place where primogeniture was the way power was passed, she was about to make a wholly horrible leap in logic that could hurt an already hurting person. But then why had Aurella used the name Kyla?

Ianthe sat back, her thoughts swaying to and fro in time with the rocking of the wagon as they approached the palace.


	6. Chapter 6

“The Eyrie Grove.” Nyalla muttered as they passed under the massive outer gate. Ianthe hadn’t realized the sheer scale of this place until they had gotten right up against it. The walls around the palace rose eighty feet in the air, with squat towers reaching another twenty feet higher. Thinner towers sprouted at regular intervals, each on reaching over two hundred feet. The gatehouse was massive, large enough to allow four wagons to pass side by side through its maw. Inside the sprawling grounds, the buildings were cyclopean in nature, almost as if the walls were built in later ages by smaller artisans. The tiered buildings all rose hundreds of feet into the air, made of massive stones, the smallest of which still weighed many tons, cut so fine they had no binder to hold them together. 

Each of the tiers on the buildings were fortified and surrounded by a crenelated wall. Each crenellation was a leering face, each stretch of wall a frieze of frolicking life or raging war. The length of each of the buildings was staggering, each one wide enough that its soaring height felt squat. Despite being so large, the grounds inside of the walls felt cramped by the massive nature of the buildings and the crowds of people moving too and fro. 

Some of the people stopped and watched the newcomers, curious as to what tidings they would bring. Most, however, were too busy to spare more than a momentary glance at the train before hurrying on to their appointed task. Ianthe realized that as well as being the center of Lycrest’s government, this was also the center of the war effort. Looking around, she saw constant patrols on the walls and on each level of the towers. 

“I wonder how many other towns were stripped of their guards to help the war effort rather than remove any from here.” Ianthe muttered to herself. She spotted the regimental crests of at least five different regiments, not including those of the royal guard, such as the ones escorting them. She also noticed there were many nobles and their house guards around, making this one of the most guarded places she had ever been to. Even the Glittering Guard that always escorted Queen Aimee was no where as massive as the army gathered here. 

Unnoticed by Ianthe, Ree looked back at her, overhearing the comment she made. Silently, Ree tucked this knowledge away and turned forwards. 

“Your highnesses, will you be staying in your rooms?” The leader of their guards asked as they pulled up to the central tower. 

“No, we will be staying with our group.” Nyalla replied, her voice steady as a solid rock. Ianthe looked at her friend. She wondered where the shaking, nervous woman who had arrived had gone. As they all got down, Ianthe noticed Nyalla’s hands had deep crescent pressure marks in them. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to your own rooms?” Inathe asked, hoisting up her bags. “I’ve never seen how a royal dresses their bedroom.” Nyalla shivered, quickly grabbing her bags to cover her reaction. 

“Maybe she can take you for a tour later.” Quel chuckled. Kelan snorted, still obviously upset from the contact with Aurella earlier. Ianthe still wasn’t sure what happened, other than her friend had been insulted. Zeena hopped down, twirling her skirts out. 

“This is going to be wonderful! I cannot wait to see what life here is like.” She walked to the cart and lifted one of the large boxes, her parasol gently strapped to her side to provide hands-free shade.   
“Mistress Nyalla, M…Master Kelan, other students.” An older servant asked. They could see three other servants behind him, each of them pushing a large cart. “If you wouldn’t mind placing the baggage on these carts, we will take them to the ambassador rooms.”

“It is good to see you, Liam.” Kelan smiled, placing his bags on one of the carts and went back to the wagons for more. When they all had placed the bags on the carts, the other servants left for the Diplomat’s wing. Seeing the adults all walking away, the group hurried to catch up to them. 

“I have been instructed to show you around and answer and questions you may have while here.” Liam informed the group. “That is, when you are not assisting the diplomats.” He moved back and whispered something in Kelan’s ear. Whatever it was, his face hardened and Ianthe could tell the news angered him. “Your father is throwing a small celebration to welcome you all. I’m sure he will be happy to see you.”

“Of course he will.” Kelan muttered, eyes rolling to the sky. “He’ll love seeing us so much I bet he’ll pay to have us stay at the school for two additional years.” Kelan stomped off, Quel jogging to catch up with him. Liam seemed resigned to Kelan’s anger and turned to Nyalla.

“I see that K…Kelan’s temper is the same as always.” Liam’s tone was level.

“He’s gotten better. He only reserves that for Father and Aurella.” Nyalla smiled at the older servant. She noticed his occasional glances at Zeena and Ianthe. “Is everything ok?”

Liam swallowed, not sure if he could answer, but not wanting to remain silent when given the opportunity to answer. “Is it safe, bringing them here?” He lowered his voice. “I know we are tentatively at peace with the Shimmering City, but allowing two such monsters into the palace?”

“The vampires of Stromkirk are much different from the ones who haunt our folklore.” Nyalla replied. “Zeena’s wonderful. And she would not drink blood from you unless it was freely given. They have laws against it where she’s from.”

Liam didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t feel like he could contradict Nyalla, despite her being much younger. “Well, what about the fiend? Is it truly such an ungodly place out there that fiends walk the streets?” 

“She is not a fiend!” Nyalla hissed, her cheeks burning red. “She just happens to have a fiend as her ancestor. She is a kind, smart, beautiful woman.” 

“Still, I would be careful being seen with her. Most people will not think kindly of her appearance.” Liam said, before moving forwards to direct the group. 

They were just about to enter one of the large towers when Ree called Ianthe aside. Heading over, the fiendling looked down at her teacher. She wasn’t sure what the woman wanted from her. She had mentioned a special purpose, but couldn’t fathom it. When Ree made sure no one was nearby, she looked up at Ianthe. “What are your impressions of this place?”

“It’s large, well maintained, and a lot better looking than home or the university.” Ianthe replied. She felt a spectral hand slap the back of her head. She grunted. “There are a lot of soldiers here. Way too many for my comfort, especially since there is a war going on. I’ve counted enough regiments to indicate a whole army here.”

“Anything else about them?” Ree asked. Ianthe was about to answer negative, but her teacher’s tone stopped her. She thought for a moment and looked back to all of the soldiers she had seen. Most of the squads were made of troops from multiple regiments. She said as such. “And what conclusion would that bring you to?”

“That their regiments were taken off the front line…because of casualties?” She asked, hoping to glimpse an answer from the depths of Ree’s hood. 

“That could be it, but we will not know without more information. During this trip, you will help me with finding this information out.”

“How?” Ianthe hissed, leaning in close. “I’m a tall, fiendish looking woman with wings and four arms. I practically scream ‘look at me’ wherever I go.” Her tail thrashed behind her. 

“I will give you that.” Ree answered, nonplussed by Ianthe’s anger. “but there are also many places you can get that others cannot. At least not easily.” She glanced upwards. Ianthe looked up, seeing she was looking at one of the levels a few hundred feet above the ground. “Also, they won’t expect you to be a spy. Spies need to be smart and blend in.” Ianthe’s nostril’s flared. 

“Are you saying I’m a dullard?” She growled. Ianthe was starting to feel that she should have refused Ree. 

“No, but you look like you’re someone who would think with these.” Ree grabbed one of Ianthe’s biceps, “And this.” Her other hand grabbed Ianthe’s belt buckle and gave a jerk. “I want you to play that up.” 

“What?!” Ianthe sputtered. “You want me to pretend that the only reason I was brought along was because I’m strong and my head’s empty?”

“Not empty, just not a priority. You have no idea how many people will talk loosely if they think you’re dumb.” Ree motioned for her to be quiet. “Don’t do anything stupid, but try to be what they think you are, just a dumb student who wants to flex her muscles.”

“Fine.” Ianthe relented. “Just…can you…remove your hand.” She was blushing heavily. Ree looked down, gave the belt another tug, and let go.

“Good start. Now, catch up with the others.” Ianthe immediately took off, jogging after the rest of the group. Ree, her cloak still draped over her, slowly faded from view, her first assignment done and her second commencing.


	7. Chapter 7

“Where have you been?” Zeena asked as Ianthe jogged up to them. They were currently waiting in a small ante chamber, twenty by thirty. There were small wooden benches around the room, with small cushions to provide comfort. The walls were a sharp cream, with colorful paintings of autumn around the room. Zeena was perched on one of the benches, her skirts spilling out beside her. Quel and Kelan were muttering together on another bench, while Nyalla was helping one of the professors make some last-minute adjustments to his ambassador’s outfit. 

“I was held up by Ree.” She replied, voice low. “What did I miss?”

“Held up or brought up?” Zeena giggled. Ianthe flushed a deep purple and glared at her friend. “Get over it. Besides, I must tell you about the scuffle for bedrooms. I was able to secure one to myself, due to my sunlight affliction. Quel is having to bunk with one of the other students, Atris, I think. Kelan also has to bunk with one of the assistant professors. He teaches the other diplomacy class.”  
“What about me?” Ianthe asked, looking at her dirtied clothing. Everyone’s clothing had been cleaned from travel. “Can I get a chance to get clean?”

“You’re rooming with me.” Nyalla chirped up, coming over from where she had finished. “Let me clean you up.” She muttered a few words, the material of Ianthe’s clothing slowly mending together and cleaning themselves. “It doesn’t look great, but better than torn.” She smiled up at Ianthe. 

“Not so sound rude, but how did we end up rooming together?” Ianthe asked as she watched her clothing clean itself. 

“Because she was almost begging me to give up having you as a roommate.” Zeena chuckled. 

“No one else wanted to room with me, and they wouldn’t let me take the room alone.” Nyalla shot back, holding her nose in the air. “And while I am here for this diplomatic mission, I will not stay in my old bedroom.”

“Why?” Ianthe asked, watching the doors to the Great hall open. They started moving forwards, passing through one at a time as they were being introduced to those in the room. Nyalla didn’t get the chance to answer as they had walked into the massive area. It felt more like a cathedral than a hall. The roof went up nearly eighty feet, arching to a point at the top. One whole side of the room was dedicated to stained glass, which Nyalla quietly mentioned were famous figures from Lycrest’s past. There were columns every twenty feet, each barely two feet in diameter and stylized to look like tree trunks.

Large topiary surrounded the base of each column, in the shapes of animals, great cats and canines, elks and bears, as well as magical creatures in the forms of unicorns, pegasi, and griffons. They were all standing in clearly defensive poses, making the room seem as if it attempted to look menacing a little too much. Ianthe nearly laughed at some of the creatures. 

After nearly two hundred feet, they came to the steps of the dais, upon which the royals were waiting. The king, a large human with deep black hair and weather worn skin, sat as the group knelt. Ianthe felt Nyalla immediately grab her hand. Her skin was clammy. The king stood, his rich green and silver clothing rustling. His hands were covered in rings, and around his neck was a massive necklace with deep amethyst jewels studded all through it. Clutched in one hand was a massive, six foot scepter topped with a large sphere of amber.

“All bow for his Majesty, King Bealor the Third, her Majesty, Queen Aurella, and his highness, Duke Loggon of Manore Pass.” The delegation bowed.

“Welcome to Lycrest.” The king’s voice, a hiss like sliding sand, rang out throughout the room. He rested the massive scepter on the ground, using the tip to wave over them. It glowed gently, slightly changing color as it passed over different people. 

“We thank you for your gracious reception, and are honored at your allowance of our presence.” Professor Legornne, the leader of their group, took a step forward before resuming his bow. 

“It was our pleasure.” The king nodded, motioning for all of them to rise. “We hope to continue the wonderful relationship between the Shimmering City and our lovely Lycrest. It is also nice to have our children come to visit. It seems that we have much to discuss, and much to gain, from this meeting.” 

“We will be happy to discuss the continuation of our trade and alliance with Lycrest at your Majesty’s earliest convenience.” Professor Legornne replied.

“…after dinner.” Kelan muttered, almost too soft to hear. Ianthe tried to keep her face passive, not wanting to be the second of her family to be barred from entering a country. 

“Yes, we look forward to that as well. First however, we shall have a feast and offer prayers and devotions.” He smiled, spreading his arms, and cape, wide. Ianthe was amazed. The king was tall, standing well over six feet. He was rake thin, his body matching the wasted away voice. “Chamberlain, inform the Arch Druidess that we will be having a large celebration tonight on Grove Peak.” Without a word, the Chamberlain bowed and walked away. “Till then, perhaps our children would like to join us while you rest from your journey?” 

“That would be most gracious of you.” {XXX} replied. “I’m sure they would enjoy being with family again.” Ianthe could feel Nyalla sweating and shaking.”

“Will you be ok?” Ianthe whispered.

Before Nyalla could reply, Kelan spoke up. “We have had a long trip father. Perhaps we can meet after the dinner?” There was a hush as Bealor looked over at his children. Nyalla quickly slid her hand from Ianthe’s as her father’s gaze turned to look at them. 

“That would be acceptable.” He replied. Slowly, he started making his way down the dais, using the scepter as a crutch. The loud, slow thunk of the scepter rang out through the hall, a note of finality and grandeur to each loud ring. Slowly, he approached Ianthe. “I hear I have you both to blame and thank for the peril to Loggon earlier today.” 

Ianthe merely nodded till Nyalla poked her behind the wings. “Yes, your Majesty.” Ianthe replied, remembering to use her voice. 

“Well, I know that Loggon is very excitable. I thank you for looking out for my heir.” He held out a hand, palm down. A brief whisper entered her head. He wants you to kiss the signet ring. Middle finger. It was Nyalla’s voice. Slowly, Ianthe leaned over and gently brushed her lips against the ring. Her nostrils flared but she managed to refrain from huffing angrily with the king’s hand still there. 

As she looked at the hand, she noticed the skin was pallid and translucent. She could see the veins beneath, almost as if the king was in his last few years of dotage. As she looked up, she could see the edges of the whites of his eyes were yellowing, as were his teeth. He walked back to the throne, each step slow and deliberate. 

“You may retire. We will send for you when it is time for the dinner.” King Bealor announced as he slowly sat back onto the throne. Backing down the first fifty feet of the hall, the diplomatic party retreated and were led off to their rooms. 

As the door closed behind Ianthe, Nyalla threw herself onto the bed laid out for her and screamed into the pillow. Unsure if it would help, Ianthe walked over and awkwardly at on the bed next to her, patting both of her shoulders with her right side arms. She remained quiet. She knew what to say to her brothers when they were sad, but she had no idea how to deal with royalty, or even what had set her off. 

Nyalla leaned into the touch, curling up and rolling to rest her head on Ianthe’s lap, her face still buried in the pillow. Ianthe looked around the room as she tried to comfort her friend. It was a stately room, each of the two beds were four poster beds, large enough for two people, three if they wanted to get friendly. There were two chests in the room for clothing, each made of dark, hardwood. There was also a storage trunk at the end of each bed, a soft, light wood. 

As she looked closer, Ianthe realized there was bark on the outside of all of the wood furniture. Reaching out, she ran a hand along the poster pole. It felt like a living tree. She dug one claw into the wood, seeing the green wood and sap inside. 

“Everything here is living.” Nyalla sniffled, lifting her head. “It’s part of the magic of this place. It never lost this magic, even after the Cataclysm. It’s born into the place.” She sat up, wiping her nose with a cloth she plucked from a hip pouch. 

Ianthe grunted, taking the information in. She stood, lower arms on her hips as she crossed her upper arms over her chest. “Do you mind if I ask you why you or Kelan aren’t the heir?” She walked to one of the chests, ignoring the vanity mounted behind it as she ran a claw through the intricate bark patterns. 

“It’s something I’d rather not go into right now. It’s still to fresh for both of us.” Ianthe heard movement behind her and saw Nyalla approach her from behind. The small human’s arms wrapped around her waist and buried her face in the middle of her back. “Promise me that you won’t ask that to Kelan. Also, don’t bring up our mother.”

“Why?” Ianthe asked. 

Nyalla paused before replying. “You owe me. You got angry when I asked about Tieflings and told me not to ask again. I’m doing it politely this time.” She felt Ianthe’s shoulder’s slump. “When you feel comfortable enough to tell me, I’ll tell you. Just promise me.”

“Fine.” Ianthe huffed. “Now, I think we should get ready for the feast tonight.”

“Crap!” Nyalla sprinted away from her. “I have to go help the professors get ready!” She started ripping off clothing, getting out of her travelling clothes to change into more formal wear. Seeing the first piece of clothing go flying, Ianthe immediately moved away, pointedly staring at the ceiling so she didn’t see Nyalla through the mirror or directly as she changed. Her lower hands clasped behind her as her upper hands clasped in front of her. Her tail wriggled side to side, her nervous energy taking control over her will. 

“Are you seriously being bashful?” Nyalla asked. 

“Yes! Just because my grandmother was an incarnation of illicit sex does not mean that I have to be. I can also choose to not see a friend naked if I choose.” Ianthe replied, her cheeks flushing heavily. She heard what sounded like a disappointed exclamation from Nyalla. “Besides, you have nothing that I can’t look into the mirror and see.”

“Yes, I do.” Nyalla replied, cinching up the side of her dress. She walked up behind Ianthe and gently poked her in the back. “I’m new. And you want to see what’s new.” Ianthe continued to look at the ceiling till the door closed. She could feel her arousal straining at the material of her pants. She had the momentarily hilarious and embarrassing image of it ripping out of her pants, but she knew it was merely her nerves conjuring the image. 

She bit her lip till she felt blood trickle to her chin. She was going to have to sit Nyalla down and talk to her…or give in to her desires, which she really didn’t care to do. Ianthe turned towards the mirror, bracing all four arms against the chest. 

“I hate that I have to deal with you.” She said to her reflection. 

“Only because you don’t know how to enjoy life.” Her reflection replied. 

“Oh, and you do? You don’t even have a life. All you are is a mindless fiend of lust.” Ianthe tried to turn away, but her reflection’s eyes were holding her in place. 

“I know there is more to life than just sex.” Her image pouted. Even the pout was somehow alluring. “It’s just that sex is a great way to get the power you want. And besides, that little thing wants you to violate everything about her. You can feel her attraction.” 

“I don’t care. You’re not getting the better of me.” Ianthe grunted, ripping herself from the chest. “I’m getting dressed and going to enjoy a truly civil party.”

As she walked away, her grandmother tried one last sally. “You were made only because of me. Without me to push your father to relent to your mother’s advances, he would have remained single and you would have never been.”

Ianthe did not reply. She knew better than to bait her grandmother, especially when she had a point. Still, Ianthe couldn’t bring herself to give in. Nyalla had no idea what she was getting herself into. As she opened her bag to pull out the dress uniform her father had given her, completely ceremonial, Ree’s words rang back in her head. Ianthe remembered the pull on her belt. Ree wanted her to appear to be the type to think with her muscles and have little self-control.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She had finished buttoning her white high waisted pants over the white long-sleeved shirt. Before Ianthe could abandon attempting to get her cravat on, Zeena burst into the room, her formal gown flowing in an elegant display of Gothic style. She was mainlining black, with purple highlights along the bust, arms, and under skirt. 

“What is taking you so long?” She asked, sweeping into the room. 

“Moral quandary.” Ianthe sighed, trying to get the cravat to sit right. Zeena seemed to float up behind her and grabbed the cravat, setting it right. 

“And may I ask what it is?” Zeena jostled Ianthe’s pants, making sure they sat straight. “Do I have to dress you every time? Have you not gotten used to your body?”

“No, it’s that I haven’t had a tailor look at these for a while.” Ianthe grunted, settling her clothing on her to rest easier. “I need you to keep this a secret. Ree wants me to help her spy around here. Rather than being a sneak, she wants me to play at being slightly dumb, more likely to think with my arms and groin than my head.”

“And that is different from normal how? I do not see anything to cause you a moral quandary.” Ianthe glared down at Zeena, who held her gaze with a look so innocent only the guilty could have made it. After a few moments, she broke down and started laughing.

“At least someone thinks it’s funny. You know I’ve never…done it.” Ianthe muttered, strapping on her pistol. They have been informed that blades were only to be worn by the Ivory Guard, but the Redeemer at her side was part of her uniform. “And you also know the urges I get. How hard it is to resist them at times.”

“From what you have told me, your grandmother’s influence is very strong.” Zeena went to open the door. Ianthe laid two hands against it to keep it closed. 

“Yes…and now there is Nyalla. You know why she wanted me as her roommate?” Zeena shrugged. “She wants me to be her royal stallion.” Zeena burst into laughter. “It’s not funny! Do you know how bad that could turn out? How much trouble I’d be in?”

Zeena was laughing too hard to care. “You could say she wants you to take her to new heights.” She paused laughing just long enough to squeak that out before another round of howling laughter bent her double. 

Ianthe fought the urge to pounce on Zeena and wrestle with her. She didn’t want to mess up her uniform. “Laugh it up, Fangs. I’ll get you for this.” She ripped the door open. Ianthe nearly made it from the room when a yank on her tail dragged her back a few paces. She always forgot how strong Zeena was for someone who looked like she was made of toothpicks. 

“Look, do you think you are going to have to sleep with someone? Do you want to? That is the important thing. If you want to go around and live like that as part of your cover, then do it. But if you want to save your first time to make it ‘special’.” Ianthe rolled her eyes as the woman who had for years dreamed of the magical nature of the first time she drank blood from actual veins used air quotes about her sex life. It was only when, in the need to save her life, Zeena bit into the nearly dead cultist’s neck to draw sustenance, that she had come to think of the first time as meaningless, but meaning being derived from the importance the parties placed on the act. “then you should probably let the little princess exercise her royal prerogative on you. Maybe get her to make noise, so people talk, and then you do not have to sleep around, since everyone will think you are the princess’s bedmate.”

“Zeena,” Ianthe’s voice was soft, a sigh coming out in the form of words. “you know I can’t do that. I can’t do that to her, I can’t do that to myself. Not safely. I’ll find another way to get in with the guards and soldiers.” She straightened up and pulled her jacket down to smooth the wrinkles. Shoulder’s squared, she turned towards Zeena. “Thanks, I needed that. And I don’t think the Arbor’s would like to be called princess or prince.” 

“Good. Now, let us see what our hosts decide to grace us with. You can tell so much about a noble house by the feast they prepare.”

“But you don’t eat!” Ianthe cried as they made their way down the hallway.

“Still, I can know things without having to use them. Things that you would love to know.” Zeena let Ianthe’s hand go and started running down the hallway.

“What do you know? What do you know?” Ianthe yelled, utterly confused as to the turn of events. Not wanting to be lost alone, she pumped her legs, steel clad hooves sparking off the stone floors as she sprinted after her laughing friend.


End file.
